


I Knew I Loved You

by skyhillian



Series: Fireflies [2]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Canon Divergence, D/s undertones, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hair Pulling, Health problems, M/M, Marriage, Mentions of Prostitution, Nonconsensual Groping, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Prequel, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sexual Assault, Spanking, elopement, mental health, mentions of eating disorders, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyhillian/pseuds/skyhillian
Summary: Sometimes there are people that you fall in love with in every way possible, sometimes without knowing it. They become your entire world before you even realize it, and when you do, you vow to never, ever let them go.For Dan, Arin Hanson is that person.





	1. Prologue: Some Things You Just Don't Question

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the 2017 GGBB. It's the prequel to Fireflies! I'm just as surprised as you are, I assure you.
> 
> I wanted to thank Marie, Sylvie, Jude, Alex, and Kayla for all of the encouragement. I couldn't have gotten this beast done without their words of support.

# PROLOGUE - Some Things You Just Don’t Question

 **From: Egoraptor** ****  
**To: Ninja Sex Party** **  
** **2/20/2010**

 _Hey! My name is Arin Hanson (or Egoraptor as you probably noticed) and I’m an animator. I love your guys’ music and videos and I thought it would be awesome to do an animated video for one of your songs. I’ve got an okay channel showcasing my animation, so if you wanna check it out and see if you’re into my animation, that’d be cool. Let me know if you’re up for it, and if you’re ever in L.A., I could show you around and we could get lunch or something.  
_ _Arin_

Danny scans the message again before clicking on the guy’s channel name and letting the page load. His wifi is definitely a little janky since Comcast sucks balls, but eventually the page appears. Egoraptor’s subscriber count is almost a quarter of a million and Dan’s eyes widen. Ninja Sex Party just barely has a thousand. He’s not going to lie, he’s surprised that someone with such a big following wants to animate something for them. He navigates his way to the videos, and he metaphorically loses his shit at the amount of views there are. The guy is obviously very good, and Dan sets out to watch his catalog of videos.

An hour and several laughing fits later, Dan emails Brian telling him to read the message from Arin with orders to check out his stuff. Without waiting for Brian’s opinion, he responds to Arin.

 **From: Ninja Sex Party** ****  
**To: Egoraptor** **  
** **2/20/2010**

 _Hey man! This is Danny (and Ninja Brian, I guess) and I checked out your channel. You’re fucking hilarious, dude! Your animation is really awesome, too. We’d love to have you animate a video. We’ve got a song that we’re planning on releasing for a single sometime next year that would be good for that. I can send you the rough track of it so you can check it out and see what you think. I’m also going to be in L.A. from March 6th to the 16th. Lunch sounds awesome!_ _  
_ _Danny_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also made my own music mix for this story because I could.  
> Check it out here: https://open.spotify.com/user/1298077180/playlist/7s4li7C5tQCGdpucoLRI5r


	2. I - I Think I've Found My Best Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing artist that selected my story is teethandeyesandacid.tumblr.com! Check them out!

# Chapter 1 - I Think I’ve Found My Best Friend

 

# Saturday, MARCH 6, 2010

 

Dan drops his two duffel bags down on the floor and flops backwards onto the couch with a loud groan. He hears a laugh and when he looks up, his uncle is leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. “You gonna make it?” he teases, and Dan flips him the bird. There’s a smile on his face, though, and Bruce lovingly returns the gesture. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” Dan grouses. There’s a knot in his neck because he fell asleep for roughly ten minutes and a toddler had kicked into the back of his seat, waking him up with a wild jerk. He’d actually heard the cracking sound his vertebrae made. “And way too fucking early.”

“Do you want a cup of coffee, then?” Bruce asks from the kitchen. Dan can hear the clinking of glasses and the opening of the fridge. “I made a big pot this morning because I figured you’d be a grouchy ass when you got here.”

“First off, rude,” Dan says, “second, yes, please.”

Bruce snorts loudly. “Do you still take it the same? Y’know, not coffee flavored?”

He rolls his eyes. Bruce takes his coffee strong enough and black enough to melt a padlock, and if Dan had the choice he’d be having a caramel macchiato. He’s gotten a ration of shit for years over the way he takes his coffee (“Do you even know what coffee tastes like?”) but by now he couldn’t give a rat’s ass. _They_ don’t have to drink his cup. “Yes, Bruce,” he replies, exasperated.

A minute later a hot mug shaped like a fox is pushed into his hands. It’s cute as all hell and the heat is glorious on Dan’s chilly fingers. Dan takes a sip and sighs happily. The first sip of coffee is always the best, and he can feel the warmth spreading throughout his stomach, which gurgles grumpily. He hadn’t had time to grab anything to eat this morning before his flight, and with the way his appetite has been fluctuating, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to eat something now since he’s meeting Arin for a late lunch in about four hours. “Did Debbie send you this mug?”

“Yep,” Bruce replies, popping the ‘p’. His own coffee mug is shaped like a prescription bottle. “Sent me this one, too. At the rate she’s going, I’ll be able to fill a goddamn store with these.” Dan rolls his eyes and continues to sip at his coffee. He already feels a bit more alert.

By the time Dan is on his third cup of coffee, he feels more like a human being than a tired sack of shit, and he and Bruce have had a nice long conversation. It’s been a few years since Dan was out here to visit, and though they talk on the phone and email, it’s nice to sit down and _talk_ . He’s always gotten along really well with his uncle—he’s so much like Debbie that it’s kind of hard for Dan to _not_ get along with him. When his hands start to shake more than usual, Dan decides that he should probably stop with the coffee, and after rinsing his mug he heads back to the living room where he lays down on the couch. His feet hang off the end (surprise, surprise), but he makes do with what space he has.

He’s just beginning to drift off to the sounds of Law and Order when Bruce speaks. “What time is your friend picking you up?”

“Around two, he said,” Dan tells him.

“Do I need to go outside and meet this boy, make sure he keeps his hands to himself?”

Dan groans and covers his face with his hands. “Bruce, I’m thirty years old,” he grouses. “And it’s not a date! Oy gevalt.”

Bruce continues on as if Dan hasn’t spoken at all. “I can always remind him that if he gets too forward that I _do_ have guns.” Dan groans louder.

“Stooooooop,” he whines, and Bruce laughs before ruffling Dan’s mop of hair. He squawks with indignation and bats his uncle’s hand away.

“You know I’m just giving you shit, man,” Bruce says.

“Doesn’t make it any less embarrassing,” Dan retorts with a nudge to Bruce’s leg with his foot.

“Anyway,” he says, “I’m going to go do some work. I’ll make sure you’re up by 1:30, okay?”

“Thank you.”

It takes less than ten minutes for him to drift off.

 

__ __ __

 

Two hours later, Bruce pokes him in the side and he wakes with a start and a shout of “whattafuck”. While Bruce laughs, Dan scrubs the sleep out of his eyes and sits up. His back makes sounds like Jiffy Pop when he stretches. He’s getting too old to be sleeping on tiny ass couches. A quick glance at the clock tells Dan that it’s half past one. With a groan, he hefts himself off of the couch and heads upstairs. He fishes his shitty flip phone out of his jeans pocket and finds a message from Arin. He’d sent him a message when he landed letting him know that he was in L.A. Arin must’ve messaged him back when he was napping.

**~ > Great! I’ll be there around two unless I manage to fuck everything up and get lost**

Dan can’t keep the smile off of his face. They’ve only been in contact for a month, but it already feels like he’s been friends with Arin for years and they haven’t even properly met yet! He’s not going to lie—he’s a little nervous to meet Arin. They’ve Skyped and talked and texted a ton, but it’s always different meeting someone face to face. He’s not necessarily worried that it’ll be awkward, per se—Arin squashed any worries about that last night when he had replied to Dan’s text of “I can’t wait to see you, man!” with “I cannot wait to get inside your asshole.” Dan had actually laughed so hard he gave himself the hiccups.

He dumps his clothes out of his duffel bag and rifles through his shirts. The one he’s wearing isn’t necessarily dirty, but he feels like he’s wearing airplane gunk, and anyhow, he wants to make a good impression. He feels a little dumb as he sifts through his band t-shirts and flannels, considering the fact that Arin has seen him in his pajamas, which consists of a shirt that is probably eight sizes too big and is more hole than actual shirt and a pair of ratty NY Giants flannel pants.

He finally settles on his Power Windows shirt. He swipes his deodorant under his pits and sprays himself with Old Spice. He gives his hair a glance in the mirror that hangs on the back of the door and immediately decides that _that_ is a fruitless endeavor. He doesn’t look bad—his clothes are too big on his skinny frame (even skinnier now that he’s started losing weight) and he looks tired and he could do with a shave, but it’ll have to do.

His thoughts are interrupted by Bruce calling to him from downstairs. “Danny, your boyfriend is here!”

“Fuckin’...” Dan mutters to himself as he opens the bedroom door and trots downstairs. “He’s not my boyfriend, Bruce!”

Bruce makes a noise that clearly says he doesn’t believe his nephew, and Dan childishly sticks his tongue out at him. “Hey, now, save that kind of thing for your man.”

“Oh, my God, dude, shut up.” He tugs on his sneakers, pats his pockets to make sure that he has his phone and wallet, and opens the door. “I’ll be back when I’m back. Love you.”

“Use protection!” Bruce calls just as Dan slams the door behind himself. He tries to pretend he didn’t hear it.

There’s a red, slightly dingy Mini Cooper sitting in the driveway. Arin leans out the window with a big, shit-eating grin on his face. “Get in loser, we’re getting sushi!”

Dan stares at him in disbelief. “I cannot believe you just quoted _Mean Girls_ at me. I’m reconsidering this entire thing.” Arin quirks an eyebrow.

“You knew it was from _Mean Girls_ ,” he points out, and Dan sighs, defeated.

“Touché.” He opens the car door and slips inside. The faux leather is warm enough that he can feel it through the denim of his pants, and all of the windows are rolled down, presumably because the air conditioner doesn’t work. Before he buckles his seatbelt, he turns to face Arin with a huge grin on his face. “It’s nice to finally see you, man!”

Arin shoots him a thousand-watt smile. “You’re more handsome in person,” he says without missing a beat, and Dan feels his face beginning to heat up. “Aww, you’re cute when you’re flustered!”

A spluttered “shut up” followed by a soft punch to the arm is all Danny can come up with, and Arin is still laughing at him when they pull out of the driveway.

 

__ __ __

 

Little Tokyo is crowded and they have to park a few blocks away, but Dan doesn’t mind the walk. It’s nice in California—it’s a temperate sixty degrees compared to Bushwick, which was in the mid thirties when he boarded his flight this morning. He and Arin chat about nonsense as they walk, and Arin points out storefronts and restaurants that he likes as they pass them.

The place they end up at is called Sushi Komasa, and it doesn’t look like much from the outside—the building is a little dingy and old looking, but inside is nice and cozy, with five or six tables on one side of the small establishment, and a conveyor belt bar on the opposite side where the itame are preparing food. There are only a few patrons inside, and Arin asks for them to be seated at a table instead of the bar. Dan giggles when Arin pulls out his chair for him. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

They only have to wait around ten minutes to get their food (a Komasa special and a small plate of sushi rolls). Dan only manages to eat a few rolls of sushi, a third of his rice, and some bits and pieces of everything else, and he feels guilty for not being able to clear his plate. His stomach has been so touchy lately. He’s lost five pounds since Christmas that he can’t afford to lose, and he’s been having stomach cramps and a serious lack of appetite. Sushi is notorious for being filling, but he _knows_ he’s capable of eating more than he has.

It doesn’t seem to bother Arin, however, and after he checks to make sure that Dan is full, he finishes the majority of what’s on their table. Dan massages his abdomen while Arin eats, and they talk shop about Ninja Sex Party.

“I don’t wanna take time away from you spending time with your uncle,” Arin says, gesticulating wildly with his chopsticks. Dan is watching the eel roll that’s clutched tightly between the two pieces of wood warily, waiting for it to go flying across the restaurant. “But I did start storyboarding for the animated parts of the music video like, the second time through listening to the song.”

“Oh, dude, Bruce knows that I’m also here to spend time with you and figure stuff out for NSP. He’s got work and shit anyhow, so I definitely have time to split between you guys.” While they talk, one of the servers drops off their bill, and Arin and Dan reach for it at the same time.

“I’ve got it, man,” Arin says. Dan frowns.

“At least let me pay half.” His bank account is pretty dismal, and he knows that what he has in his wallet is _definitely_ dismal, but he feels bad letting Arin pay for their lunch.

“I invited _you_ out, dude,” Arin reminds him. “I’m paying.”

“At least let me get the tip,” Dan tries. He immediately regrets his words when Arin waggles his eyebrows suggestively with a stupid-ass grin on his face.

“But Daniel,” he simpers, “I thought you were saving the tip for me.”

In hindsight, it was also a very bad idea to take a drink of his water, and he splutters as it comes out his nose in his fit of laughter. Arin cackles, overjoyed, and he uses the time Dan is taking to wipe at his face and groan in dismay to hand the billfold to their server. “Oh, God, it’s behind my eyes.”

“‘M’sorry,” Arin manages through his giggles. Dan aims a light kick at Arin’s shin.

“No you’re not, don’t lie!”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m not. That was fucking hilarious.”

Their receipt is returned to them and Dan glares at Arin, who promptly ignores him. He follows Arin out of the restaurant and into the California sunshine. They’re quiet as they walk back to where Arin had parked. They walk for a block in silence before Arin speaks up.

“I’m uh, I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes or anything back there,” he says sheepishly. “It’s just… Like, I know that you’re in a rough spot financially and I wanted to do something nice, y’know, let you save your money for something you need. I definitely haven’t forgotten what that shit’s like, and if I can help alleviate any sort of extra stress put upon you…” He trails off, shoving his hands into his pockets. Dan looks over at the younger man. He’s looking down at his feet as they walk, and his hair hangs down in front of his face, shiny and soft looking.

Dan’s heart warms at Arin’s words—they’ve talked in length about Arin’s not-so-recent past and how much he had struggled with money, and he really does appreciate Arin trying to help, even if it’s such a small gesture. He startles Arin by slinging an arm over his shoulder. This close, he can smell the sour tang of sweat and Arin’s body wash, which smells incredibly girly, actually. Dan’s almost positive that his last girlfriend had used whatever brand that is. “No worries, man,” he says with a smile on his face, “I appreciate it.” He releases Arin, but they stay close enough to each other that their arms bump as they walk.

Arin’s smile is bright and infectious, and Dan can’t keep one from spreading across his own face. Arin exhales loudly. “Okay, it’s good to know that I didn’t somehow insult my new friend while trying to be nice.”

“No worries, bro.”

On the way back to Bruce’s house, they make plans for Monday. Arin’s gonna pick him up and they’re going to go over to Arin’s house in Glendale so that they can work on storyboarding. Arin promises him some quality video gaming time, too, which Dan is super excited for. He hasn’t had a system since his Game Cube died about four years ago.

Once in the driveway, Dan unbuckles his seatbelt and leans across the console to give Arin a mildly awkward hug.  The angle is all off and Arin is trying to keep from being choked by his seatbelt, but it's nice. “I'll see you Monday, yeah?” Arin nods his confirmation as Dan climbs out of the car. He ducks his head back into the window once the door has shut behind him. “Text me when you get home, okay?” Arin rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his face.

“Yes, _mom_.”

Dan doesn't hear the car reverse out of the driveway until he's got the front door open, and he turns to wave at Arin before going fully in the house. Inside, Bruce is sitting on the couch doing a crossword puzzle in pen like a goddamn wild savage. “So, how was your date?” he asks, and Dan groans. He doesn't even have his shoes yet and he's already getting shit.

“First off, it wasn't a date, you mensch.” His sneakers thunk loudly when they hit the hardwood. “Secondly, I think I've got a new friend.”

 

# Monday, MARCH 8, 2010

 

Dan and Arin are sitting at Arin's kitchen table, looking over the roughly sketched stack of papers Arin has for Dinosaur Laser Fight. Dan plucks another cracker topped with cheese off of the plate sitting in front of them while Arin talks, explaining his ideas for the animation. He and Brian have almost got the first cut of the song finished, which definitely helps with the planning stages.

Eventually they're interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and Dan looks up, startled. Arin pats his hand, laughing. “It's just Suzy.” He vaguely remembers seeing Suzy puttering around in the background of some of their Skype calls, calling out a friendly hello and waving as she passed, but he hasn’t actually _met_ her, and Arin hasn’t said much about her, either.

Dan can hear a feminine voice cooing at the cats from the other room. He had been charged by the cute munchkin cats the moment he stepped through the door, and he’s definitely not surprised that they’ve done the same to Suzy. The loud _thunk-thunk-thunk_ of her footsteps grows closer, and before Dan knows it, he’s coming face to face with one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen in his life. She’s wearing terrifyingly tall boots and a tight black dress with a pentagram harness over it. Her makeup is flawless and her long dark hair is piled artfully on top of her head. She approaches the table and leans down to press a kiss to Arin’s cheek.

“Suze,” Arin says, not looking up from his papers, “why didn’t you take your shoes off? You’re going to scuff the floor.”

Suzy ruffles Arin’s hair and he squawks, indignant. She tugs open the fridge and grabs a container of green pepper slices and some hummus before coming back over to the table and sitting next to Arin.  “I’m only here for a few minutes, Arin, so don’t worry your pretty little head about the floors. Barry told me to grab a quick snack to tide me over until we have dinner.” _Finally_ , she turns to face Dan. “Sorry, I’ve been rude!” She smiles at him and he can’t help but smile back. She wipes the wetness the pepper left on her fingers on Arin’s arm, much to the man’s displeasure, before reaching across the table and shaking his hand. “I’m Suzy, Arin’s roommate. You must be Danny.”

It takes him a second to remember how his mouth works. “Uh, y-yeah! Yeah. Dan works, too.” His voice cracks on the last word and he grimaces. _Smooth, Daniel, smooth._ He clears his throat before speaking again. “I like your boots.” Suzy laughs, high and melodic.

“Thank you!” She nudges Arin with her elbow. “He’s so polite, and you’re right, he is cuter in person.”

Dan is positive that you could fry an egg on his cheeks right now, and Arin lightly swats Suzy’s shoulder as she cackles, trying to lean out of his reach. “Shoo!” he says, shoving at her. She stands up, still laughing, and raises her hands in surrender. “Go bother Barry, you ass.” Suzy kisses the top of his head and puts her food back into the fridge.

“I’ll see you at the karaoke bar tonight, okay?” Arin nods his affirmative, and a moment later, the front door closes and all is quiet.

“She’s… pretty,” says Dan before cramming a cracker into his mouth to spare himself from further embarrassment. Arin snorts and looks up at him.

“That’s an understatement.” He takes a cracker for himself and bites it in half. “Would you want to go to karaoke with us tonight? You can meet the rest of our friends.” The familiar nervousness that comes with meeting a bunch of people at once starts to settle in Dan’s stomach. The look on his face must give away what he’s feeling, because Arin quickly amends the statement. “It’s only me, Suzy, Barry, Jon, and his girlfriend, Lisa. Ross and Holly are out of town right now.”

“Where’s the karaoke bar?” It’s not as many people as Suzy made it sound like, thankfully. He’s strange when it comes to new people—he’s an ambivert, and he honestly loves being around people and being social, but actually getting out and _meeting_ them is oftentimes difficult for him. He’s really lucky in the way that people tend to be drawn to him (for some reason he still hasn’t figured out), so he doesn’t generally have to actively seek out companionship. “I don’t know if it’ll really have any bearing on you wanting me there, but I don’t drink. Well, I _can’t_ drink anymore, actually.” He actually quite enjoys having an ice cold beer with pizza or a burger, or a glass of wine with dinner, but the last several times he’s tried to drink he’s ended up riding the porcelain bus.

“It’s at the Puente Hills Mall,” Arin says, before remembering that Dan has no fucking clue where that is. “It’s like forty minutes outside of LA or some shit. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t drink either.”

“Really?” Dan perks right up. He likes bars alright—he’s certainly spent enough time in them over the years, but as of late it’s not something he’s enjoyed because being the only sober one in a group of intoxicated people sucks balls.

Arin begins putting the storyboard sketches into a stack, checking that they’re all still in order before slipping them into a binder. “Yeah, man. Alcohol tastes like breen paint.” Dan can’t hold in his snort, and Arin glares at him. “What?”

“Breen?” he questions as they head into the living room. Arin puts the binder into a drawer in the computer desk before turning on the TV. He flips on the NES and hands Dan a controller.

“Yes, blue-green,” Arin explains slowly, as if he’s talking to a small child. “Cousin to the color blurple.” Dan’t can’t help it—he bursts into giggles, which immediately sets Arin off as well.

The happiness that Dan feels in that moment kind of knocks him off guard. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this _free._ Brian always made him feel that, helped him forget all of the baggage he’s got to haul around on his back, but right now Brian is preparing to move across the goddamn ocean and leave him behind. He definitely has many friends that are very close to his heart, but many of them he doesn’t see very often, or doesn’t really talk to them except for through text or Skype. Even though he lives with fourteen other dudes, he’s felt pretty damn alone for the past few months.

Right now, however? He doesn’t feel like he’s putting on some kind of façade to hide the underlying anxiety he has. He feels _comfortable_ , as if he’s known Arin for years. He realizes he’s gone quiet and has been staring off into space for the past few minutes when Arin nudges him. He looks concerned.

“You okay man? You kinda went to a different planet, there.”

Danny runs his hand through his hair nervously. He doesn’t wanna scare Arin off, but if he doesn’t say something he might actually burst. He chuckles, apprehensive. “I uh, I just wanted to say thank you.”

Arin furrows his brow, confused. “For what?”

Dan shrugs, and his hand finds its way into his hair again. He twirls a curl repeatedly around one finger until the blood flow begins to cut off before releasing it and starting up again. He sighs. “Forget it,” he mumbles, “I’m just being weird.” He jumps, startled, when Arin sets down the controller on the coffee table with a clatter. Arin’s hand is heavy on his arm, and the heat of it makes Dan’s skin tingle.

“Dude,” Arin says quietly, “you can tell me anything.” Dan looks away from Arin’s hand and up to his face. His normally jovial behavior has been replaced by a shade of seriousness that Dan has never seen before. Arin’s brown eyes are intense as he looks at Dan, and after a moment he has to look away. “I’m not gonna judge you for anything. Like, you could tell me you killed a man and I’d probably say ‘well, he must’ve had it coming’ so like, don’t worry about me laughing at you or anything, okay?” Danny nods and takes a deep breath before meeting Arin’s eyes once more.

“It’s just uh... “ He chuckles nervously and plunges his hand into his hair, tugging just enough for sparks of pain to dance across his scalp in an attempt to ground himself and his thoughts, which are beginning to swirl. “I really don’t wanna sound overbearing, you know? Like, I don’t want to ruin a new, awesome friendship.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Arin assures him. “I’m like a bad infection that you can’t get rid of, bro.” He hesitates for a moment before running his hand down Dan’s arm until he can cover the older man’s larger hand with his own. He’s sure that Dan is going to tug his hand away when he hears the sharp intake of breath, but instead, Dan turns his palm to face upwards and he laces their fingers together with a squeeze.

“I know we’ve only known each other for like, a month, but I wanted to thank you for… I dunno, being you?” He tugs at his hair again, trying to collect his thoughts into some semblance of order. “I feel like I’ve known you for years and it helps me feel like I can be open and be myself and not hide the shittier parts of myself.” A squeak escapes him when Arin releases his hand so that he can put his arm around his shoulders and pull him into a hug. Arin is warm, and his arms feel strong around Dan’s thin frame. He feels _safe_. The smell of Old Spice and sweat and whatever laundry detergent he uses is oddly soothing. He hugs Arin back and rests his forehead on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m being weird.”

“Dan, you’re not being weird. It’s actually really fucking awesome that you feel like that, and especially that you trust me enough to tell me. And if feeling like you’ve known me for years makes you weird, then I’m just as fuckin’ weird as you are, man.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re rad as shit and we immediately made each other laugh like idiots.” He releases Dan from the hug, and Dan leans back against the couch, curling his legs up under himself.

He can feel his throat getting tight, and the only way he can think to diffuse the tension is to make a joke. “Are you sure that you’re not just keeping me around for my rockin’ bod?” He barely makes it through the sentence before he begins giggling.

“I mean,” Arin begins, pitching his voice deeper than usual with a salacious grin, “your bod _is_ fuckin’ hot.” Danny giggles harder, and he’s thankful that his face is already pinkened from the giggle fit so that Arin can’t tell that he’s blushing. Dan’s giggles set Arin off as well, and eventually they’re laughing so hard that they’re clutching their bellies.

When the laughter subsides, Dan softly headbutts Arin’s shoulder. “Thanks, baby bear.” Arin’s tummy does a little flip-flop at the nickname, but he doesn’t draw attention to it.

“Of course. Now, are you ready for me to absolutely destroy your asshole at Super Mario Bros?”

 

# Monday, MARCH 15, 2010

Bruce watches his nephew smile down at his phone where he’s curled up against the arm of the couch. He’s been texting that Arin guy on and off for a majority of the day, and every time he receives a text message from him, his entire face lights up. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Dan look this happy.

It had been almost three years since he had last seen Dan before this, and at the time Dan had been balls deep in Skyhill. He had been happy creatively, using the outlet that was performing and working on music to express himself, but mentally he had been a fucking wreck. His OCD had flared up like mad following his breakup with Rachel, and more than once while Dan was staying with Bruce, he’d had to help talk him down from a panic attack. Over the two weeks he’s been here, however, he’s only had one really rough day.

The day before, Bruce had come home from work to an over exuberant and happy Dan, the likes of which he hadn't seen in years. He had taken Dan out to dinner for his birthday, and for a large portion of their meal, Dan had chattered away about the rough frames of animation Arin had shown him, and how even though it was only five seconds of sketched animation, it had him excited about Ninja Sex Party like he hasn't been since Brian announced his impending move to England.

Bruce clears his throat and Dan eventually looks up from his phone. “How's the boyfriend?” he asks, and Dan rolls his eyes. He's stopped insisting that Arin isn't his boyfriend because he knows his uncle won't listen anyway. He lives to give him shit, and he knows he's not _actually_ serious.

“He's good,” Dan answers. “He's sad that I have to fly back to Brooklyn tomorrow.” He's sad, too, but he's trying not to dwell on it because he knows that doing so will just upset him. If he's going to fall into a slump, he plans on doing it in the privacy of his shitty Bushwick apartment alongside his fourteen roommates.

“I'll miss you,” Bruce admits. “It's been nice having you around.” Dan's resultant smile reminds Bruce so much of his sister that he has a sudden pang of homesickness despite the fact that he hasn't lived in Jersey in almost twenty years.

“I've actually been thinking about maybe moving out here,” Dan admits. He loves New York with a passion, but he's starting to feel the familiar wanderlust that creeps in every few years. Nowhere has felt like home since he moved out of his parent's house at eighteen to go to college, but he feels like L.A. might be different.

“You could always stay with me until you can get a job and find an apartment,” Bruce tells him. Dan perks up, a huge smile crossing his face.

“Really?” It’s times like this when Dan really can’t believe how lucky he is when it comes to his family. Throughout everything, they’ve been so fucking supportive. His relationship with Avi right now is a little strained, but Dan doesn’t hold it against his father. He’s worried about him, worried that he won’t make it after two failed bands (not even touching upon the several others that hadn’t even really made it off of the ground), and now he’s in a new band that sings about _dicks_.

He hopes that one day his dad will be proud of what he’s doing, and he really hopes that L.A. will help give him that opportunity.

 

# Thursday, AUGUST 12, 2010

 

Over the next four months, Dan begins preparing to move from Brooklyn to L.A. Arin is beyond excited when he hears that Dan is planning on moving, He’s managed to get lucky enough that he found a job for a company called Mondo. He’s going to be helping them do pilots and shorts on their YouTube channel. He’s also got a job interview lined up with Maker Studios sometime in September for after he moves, and he hopes that he can land that job as well.

Barry, who is Arin’s friend and Suzy’s boyfriend, has offered to let Dan move in with him since his previous roommate had moved out the month before. He’s glad that he won’t have to impose on his uncle while he tries to get his shit straight.

He’s set to fly out on the seventeenth of the month. He doesn’t have too much that he’s bringing with him—other than the basic necessities, he’s having his records and CDs shipped, along with his bass guitar and his Giant’s memorabilia. He’s not a very material person—he has very few physical items that he’s attached to, but they’re things that are very important to him for some reason or another. He’s planning on bringing out his other knicknacks—his magic decks, and Lord of the Rings stuff and his books—when he goes to New Jersey for the holidays.

On top of preparing to move, he’d had to say goodbye to Brian. He needed to be in England before the school year started, and thus he’d left in early July. It had been _rough as hell_. He’s still torn in two different directions over the whole thing—on one hand, this is what Brian has been working towards his entire academic life and Dan is so proud of him, and he and his wife want to start a family soon, and singing songs about dicks and ninjas isn’t a steady paycheck.

On the other hand, it feels like Danny’s been kicked in the teeth. Brian knows about the struggles he’d gone through with the bands that had never gotten off of the ground, and the pain he went through with the dissolution of The Northern Hues and Skyhill, and he’d _still_ decided to go to London.

Needless to say, it’s been a rough couple of months, but Dan _finally_ has something to look forward to. He’s been struggling since Brian left. His OCD had taken that situation and run off into the hills with it, nearly unravelling him as it went. His anxiety has also been insane on top of it. Luckily, his psychiatrist had got him a consultation at the hospital in L.A., so he won’t be without his meds. It’s the only thing he’s truly worried about when it comes to moving in with Barry—he’s a fucking _mess_ and he doesn’t want to burden anyone with his bullshit.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of his Skype ringtone. He’s not expecting a call from anyone, so he’s surprised when he answers and is greeted with Arin’s face. His bedroom is a mess behind him—most of the posters are torn down, and there are boxes all over. It looks like he’s packing.

“Arin? What’s going on?” The younger man looks stressed out—he has bags under his eyes and his hair looks like he hasn’t actually brushed it in a while. Dan is immediately worried.

“So, uh, you know how you’re moving down here in like, five days?” Arin’s voice is more serious than he’s ever heard it. The anxiety ratchets up a couple notches.

“Yeah?” He hates to admit it, but his voice shakes. It’s starting to feel like he’s going to cry and he’s _not_ going to do that over a Skype call. “Arin, you’re really starting to freak me out.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says and covers his face with his hands. His elbows rest on the desk and he’s quiet for a moment. “There’s just, uh, been a change of plans. Suzy found out she’s pregnant last night, and Barry is going to move in with her.”  
  
Dan is confused. “So, does that mean I have nowhere to live?” Oh, God, it’s going to be Philly all over again. He’s going to be homeless and end up having to do really shady shit to make money for food and—

“Oh, God, no,” Arin says quickly, waving his hands. “You’re still going to be living in the house that Barry had.”

 _He can’t make that rent on his own!_ “But—”

“I’m going to be living with you instead.”

Dan’s thoughts, amazingly, stop in their tracks. As someone who does nothing _but_ think in dangerous cycles, having his thoughts hit a metaphorical brick wall is a very strange experience. “Really?”

“Yeah, if that’s not a problem,” Arin goes on to say, and now he looks nervous.

A smile breaks out across Dan’s face. “No, that’s awesome, man!”

Arin’s relieved smile brightens his entire face, and Dan has the passing thought that Arin should really smile more. “Great! I gotta go finish packing up all of my shit. I’ll see you in a couple days, okay?” Dan nods an affirmative, and Arin signs off of Skype after blowing Dan an obnoxiously loud, smacking kiss.

His face is still flushed five minutes later.

 

# Wednesday, AUGUST 18, 2010

 

Dan rolls over for the eight hundredth time in forty five minutes in the bed that’s in his room. He has to suffer through using this one for now until he’s got enough money saved up to purchase a bed that is actually made for people who are over six feet tall (nothing against Barry; the man is just a fucking Hobbit). The fact that his feet hang off of the end of the bed doesn’t help his insomnia in the slightest, and despite how tired he is from moving in yesterday, he just barely manages to slip into a light sleep during the night. He never has slept very well in brand new places. The bed being too short is just an added bonus.

It’s only six in the morning when Dan is roused out of his fitful sleep by a loud _clang_ coming from the kitchen. He groans and, after wrapping his comforter around his shoulders like a majestic cape, he heads out into the kitchen to find Arin cracking eggs into a bowl. The younger man drops the entire egg into the bowl at the sight of Dan, and Dan is still giggling when he fishes it out of the bowl and properly cracks the shell.

“Morning,” Arin says, quiet. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Dan assures him. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, watching as Arin adds pepper and Spanish paprika to his eggs. “I wasn’t sleeping much anyway.”

“Do you want breakfast? I’m making an omelette.”

“Sure.” Dan hasn’t had an omelette in quite a while and it sounds _really_ good. He eyes the produce that’s set out on the counter next to Arin. “Could I just have cheese and spinach?” He’d love to have some green peppers and onions but his stomach will surely protest and he really doesn’t want to deal with the stomach cramps today.

Arin nods and turns the heat on underneath the skillet. Dan finds the bread inside the bread box (what a surprise) and pops it into the toaster. They work around each other in companionable silence.

Dan finishes buttering their toast as Arin puts his own omelette on his plate. Dan's has been plated for a few minutes already and it looks delicious. He puts the toast on the plates and grabs his own and the glass of orange juice that Arin offers him.

They head out onto the porch, and Dan pulls his blanket tighter around himself once he's seated. There's a light breeze and the sun is beginning to creep over the line of the trees.

Dan hums appreciatively on the first bite of his omelette. It's cheesy and savory and he's probably going to have spinach in his teeth but he really doesn't care. “You're a really good cook,” he tells Arin. It's slightly muffled since he has his hand in front of his mouth because he's still chewing.

“Thanks,” Arin says through a bite of toast. Weirdly, the fact that Arin gives no shits about talking with a mouthful of bread is endearing as hell to Dan. “You're amazing at making toast.”

 Dan smacks Arin upside the head, smiling the whole time. “Shut up you fucknut,” he mutters through his giggles. “I can make wicked brownies and I can toast a mean bagel.”

 “You can only make brownies because you were a pothead,” Arin counters.

 “That doesn't take away from the fact that I can make them!” Dan scoops some of his omelette onto his toast and takes a nice, big bite. While he chews, he thinks about the other stuff he can cook. “You'll also be happy to know that I can make latkes, hamantaschen, cholent, and rugelach. Mom taught me a lot of traditional Jewish recipes when I was a kid.”

 “I didn't know that you and your mom used to cook together.”

 Dan chokes a bit on his toast. “Oh, not my mom! I call my grandma ‘mom’.”

 Arin's eyebrows rise in surprise. “That's… different. What do you call your mom?”

 “Debbie,” he answers plainly.

Arin tries to imagine his mom's reaction to him calling her Maurette. It probably wouldn't fly. “Do you call your grandpa dad?”

“He died last year, actually,” Dan says solemnly. Arin quietly apologizes, and Dan is taken aback when Arin takes his hand in his. Appreciative, he squeezes Arin's hand. “I called him ‘pop’, though. I taught myself to talk before anyone really thought I should learn. I mimicked what I heard, thus I called my grandparents—my mom's parents—mom and pop, and my parents Debbie and Avi.”

Dan pushes his plate away. He's eaten more than half of the omelette and two thirds of a slice of toast. His stomach is starting to cramp a little bit. He sips his orange juice slowly. Arin looks from him to his plate. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was delicious,” Dan assures him. “I've just been having a lot of stomach issues lately, especially if I eat a lot.” Arin looks at Dan's plate.

“That's a lot?” Now he's worried. He's eaten with Dan on more than one occasion and he knows his eating habits aren't the best, but… Arin finishes his breakfast and sets Dan's plate atop his and stands up to take them in. “I'll be back in a minute, okay?”

While Arin's inside, Dan watches the sun rise higher into the sky. He really needs to make a doctor’s appointment but he doesn't have insurance and he really, _really_ can't afford the office visit, let alone all of the tests that he knows they'll run. He's starting to get worried though—over the past two months he's dropped ten more pounds and he's pretty sure that you could count all of the vertebrae in his spine from across the room. His shirts are even bigger on him than usual now, but at least it helps hide how small he's gotten. His collarbones are sharp and angular and his hip bones could probably cut glass at this point. He's down to one hundred thirty pounds.

He shouts when a mug is placed in front of him. He didn't even hear the sliding door open behind him.

“I brought peppermint tea,” Arin says by way of apology. “It should help your stomach settle.” He has his own mug of tea, and Dan can smell the scent of jade oolong from where he's sitting.

“Thank you,” Dan says softly. The ceramic warms his fingers and he breathes in deeply. The peppermint smell relaxes him a bit, and he smiles at Arin. He sips his tea, mindful of how hot it is. It's soothing on his throat and it feels wonderful on his upset stomach.

Arin slings his arm around the back of Dan's chair and rubs Dan's shoulder. “You okay?”

“Just… Just worried about my health,” he admits between sips of tea. “It's uh, it's getting pretty bad and I can't really afford to go to the doctor.” He hasn't talked to anybody about this—not even his mom or his grandma, whom he tells practically everything.

Arin pulls Dan in until he rests his head against the other man's shoulder. “We’ll get it figured out,” Arin tells him, and for the moment, he can believe it.

 

# Wednesday, AUGUST 25, 2010

 

Even as Dan and Arin climb into Arin’s car, Dan continues to voice his doubts. “Are you sure that I should go? You guys have had this planned for a long time and I don’t want to intrude on something.”

Arin looks over at Dan, exasperated. He’s been telling Dan since Monday that everyone would love to have him there and that he is very much invited, and that it’s not a problem for Arin to pay for his ticket. Even as they got dressed this morning Dan continuously asked if it was okay. Arin understands that the consistent nagging is probably stemming from Dan’s OCD, but it doesn’t really make it any easier for him to deal with the fact that Dan apparently doesn’t deem himself _important_ enough to join in on an outing.

“Daniel,” Arin says sternly, and Dan’s eyes widen in surprise. Arin has never taken such a tone with him and he only ever calls him ‘Daniel’ when he’s joking or salty (which is pretty often, actually). “ _I_ want you there. _Everyone else_ wants you there. I understand that you’re worried you’re intruding on something, but you’re not. We’re going to a park as a group of friends and you’re our friend, too.” He reaches across the gap between them and squeezes Dan’s hand. “I get that it’s hard to shut off your brain sometimes, but I promise you, you’re wanted here, okay?”

Dan stares at their interlocked hands. He’s never met someone as openly touchy-feely as Arin is. When he gets comfortable with people, he’s a very tactile person, but Arin has been this open since day one. After a moment, Dan squeezes Arin’s hand back. “Thank you, Ar,” he says quietly. “I really needed to hear that.”

During the entire forty minute drive, Dan and Arin’s hands stay clasped together on the console. When they arrive at Six Flags, they find Holly, Ross, Suzy, Barry, Jon, and Lisa hanging out near the entrance line. He and Arin are no longer holding hands, but they’re walking close enough to each other that their hands brush. Dan catches Suzy eyeing them, and he gives her a nervous smile. He's learned very quickly that it's incredibly hard to hide anything from Suzy. She's too observant for her own good sometimes.

Everything is peachy keen and good until around three o’clock, when Ross drags them all to the line for X2. Dan is _not_ a rollercoaster guy, but he’s also learned that he can’t really tell Ross ‘no’ when he gives Dan those puppy dog eyes. To help take his mind off of it, he and Arin begin discussing Ninja Sex Party. It’s not a particularly jovial conversation—Ninja Sex Party is in the red, and after doing the Sacred Chalice videos before he left for California, and having them subsequently flop, he and Brian don’t really know what to do.

“Yeah, Bri and I were thinking of doing a kickstarter,” he admits, leaning back against the railing of the line. He squints at Arin, who at least had the foresight to bring sunglasses. “I really hate asking for money like that, but I _definitely_ can’t ask my family for any help. My grandma already paid for the Sacred Chalice stuff.”

This is exactly why his relationship with his dad had been strained for the past few years. He was going absolutely nowhere, and fast. He’s had to ask to borrow money so much in his lifetime that he can’t believe anyone still fucking loans it to him. It’s not that he doesn’t pay it back—he does, with interest—but it’s becoming such a common occurrence that everyone has to be tired of his bullshit by now.

“I’ll just give it to you,” Arin says nonchalantly, and Dan has to backtrack because he _knows_ he did not hear that correctly.

“What?”

“Dude, I’ll just give you the money. It's not a problem.”

Dan has had tunnel vision once or twice in his life, and neither experience was related to a good time. The first was right before his vision went completely white when he had his first heatstroke, and the second was right before he passed out in Trinidad (from heatstroke yet again). This time, however, it's like everything around him has been faded into the background and all he can see is Arin—Arin, in his short black shorts with the Hello Kitty bow printed on the ass and his Sailor Moon tank top, with his hair held back by a headband he filched from Holly and a pair of massive Audrey Hepburn sunglasses and his bright pink flip flops—and he tackles the larger man hard enough that they stumble a bit.

“Whoa there, man,” Arin says, chuckling. “Are you okay?” He can feel Dan's entire body trembling.

“Thank you,” Dan whispers.

“It's no problem, Danny. You're my friend. That's what friends do.”

Dan takes a step back so he can look Arin in the eyes. He knows his own are shining with unshed tears, and it's very hard to see Arin's behind the lens of his sunglasses, but he knows they're filled with kindness. “That's not what most friends would do,” Dan tells him. “You're special.”

Arin is grateful that his skin has pinkened from the sun and that it hides his blush. He opens his mouth to respond, but Ross breaks the moment by shouting at them to stop being gay and to hurry up since they're next.

Only Suzy sees the two of them holding hands before the train leaves the station, as she can't ride most things due to being pregnant. If she snaps a discreet picture of them, well, no one has to know, right?

 

# Thursday, SEPTEMBER 9, 2010

 

The house is quiet, save for Arin’s music playing quietly as he works on the rough animations for Dinosaur Laser Fight. Dan has been out of the house for the past several hours responding to job interviews. Arin knows that Dan has felt useless since he moved here, what with not having a job and everything since his stint at Mondo had ended, but he’s been trying his best to assure him that it’s not a problem.

Not to mention, Dan’s health has been slowly declining. He’s been trying to hide it from Arin, but when you live with someone, it’s kind of hard to not notice their eating habits or occasionally walk into the bathroom while they’re changing. Dan barely eats enough to keep a bird alive at this point, and Arin had sleepily burst into the bathroom one morning while Dan still had his towel around his waist. He had backed out with a hasty apology, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen just how thin Dan was. He could count all of his ribs and his hipbones were prominent enough that they could probably cut glass. He’s worried and he plans on approaching the subject sometime in the next few days. He’s reached out to Suzy and asked her how to go about it, since he has no idea what he should say. Is it an eating disorder? Something related to his medical problems? Either way, he doesn’t want to be insensitive.

 He really likes Dan. He’s an incredibly good roommate—he’s respectful of Arin’s privacy, because as he’d said himself, you can’t live with fourteen roommates without learning to respect privacy. He cleans up after himself and he asks before he eats something that he explicitly knows Arin bought for himself. Not to mention he’s compassionate and funny and just all around a wonderful person to spend time with. Arin sighs and sets his tablet pen down and covers his face with his hands. He has one hell of a crush on Dan, and he’s been doing his best to shove it down into the back of his mind, but it’s been really difficult considering everything Dan does just endears Arin to him more.

 The time he’s taking to ruminate on how stupid he is gets interrupted by the front door flinging open, followed quickly by an over-excited puppy of a man. “I got a job!” Dan cries happily. Arin pulls Dan in for a hug and spins him around, much to Dan’s delight. He squeals happily and laughs. “Arin, put me down before you break something!”

Arin wants to point out that the only thing in danger of being broken here is Dan, because now that Arin has his arms around him he can feel exactly how thin he really is, but he holds back because Dan is excited and happy and he’s not going to take this away from him. He sets Dan back down and leans against the back of the couch while Dan shuts the front door and toes off his shoes.

“Where’d you get hired?”

“Maker Studios,” Dan tells him, still smiling widely. “I have to go in tomorrow to fill out some basic paperwork and forms, and then I start on Monday. I’m going to be full time, which means that I will have some fucking insurance.” The older man sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, which is starting to get shaggier.

 Arin nibbles on his bottom lip nervously for a moment. Dan _did_ bring it up himself, right? He decides to just go for it. “Could we talk about that, actually?”

 That perks Dan right up, and Arin can see the walls start to go up behind Dan’s eyes. “Uh, sure.” He starts towards the kitchen, and after Arin double checks that he saved his animation work, he follows him. He’s happy to note that Dan is nibbling on a banana that he grabbed from the fruit bowl. He’s not necessarily hungry, but it gives him something to focus on while he panics internally.

 Arin sits down across from Dan with a heavy sigh. Might as well cut straight to the point, right? “I’m really worried about you, Danny,” he says quietly. He picks at a knot in the wood of the table with his fingernail. “I know you’ve been having issues with your stomach, but like… you’ve gotten so, so thin and I’m…” Swallowing around the lump that’s forming in his throat makes his throat click audibly. “I’m worried that it’s become more than just stomach issues.”

 Dan pauses mid-bite. “You mean like an eating disorder or something?” Arin shrugs by way of answering, not taking his eyes off of the table. Has he really been worrying Arin _that_ much?

 When Dan stands up, Arin is _sure_ that he’s gone and pissed him off. Dan isn't the type to yell when angry. He recedes into himself and stews and walks out of rooms. This is what Arin expects has happened. He’s _not_ expecting Dan to drag his chair around the table and sit down facing Arin, seated so close that his knees are touching Arin’s thigh. Wary, Arin looks up from where he’s fidgeting to see Dan looking at him like he’s not quite sure what to do with him. “What?” he mumbles.

 Dan doesn’t say anything—he wraps his arms around Arin and nuzzles into his shoulder. Arin is surprised, but he’s not complaining, that’s for sure. As always, Dan smells kind of like a campfire, of cinnamon and sandalwood and something that is just purely Dan. It’s a smell that Arin has come to associate with home. After a few minutes, Dan pulls away so he can look Arin in the eyes. “I promise you I don’t have an eating disorder, Arin.” He seems almost embarrassed, though Arin can’t quite figure out why. “My stomach has been causing me so many issues that I can’t eat very much before it starts to cramp up, and if it cramps up enough, whatever I’ve eaten comes back up. I uh… I’m worried, too.”

“Oh,” Arin says quietly. “Is… is there anything I can do to help?”

Dan chuckles and rests his head on Arin’s shoulder. “Only you, man, only you.” Dan doesn’t elaborate on what he means by that, and Arin doesn’t ask. Several minutes pass before Dan comes up with an answer to the previous question. “All I need from you is for you to be here for me.”

Arin laces their fingers together and squeezes Dan’s hand. “I promise you that I can definitely do that.”

 

# Wednesday, DECEMBER 22, 2010

 

Dan passes Arin another Christmas ornament to hang on their dinky little white tree. They're a bit late getting started, considering they both fly out to visit their families tomorrow and they won’t really be around to enjoy it, but Arin had wanted to. Dan hasn’t had a Christmas tree since he lived with Rachel almost four years ago.

Most of the ornaments are video game themed, which is wholly unsurprising to Dan. Arin had explained that he'd let Suzy keep the fancy ornaments. After an hour, they've finally got lights on the tree and previously mutilated tinsel tied together and secured to the boughs.

Dan finishes cramming the tree topper (which is a Sailor Moon scepter that Suzy had modified a few years ago) onto the top of the tree, and when he turns around, Arin is standing there holding a small box wrapped in gold wrapping paper. He stares at it for a moment, confused. “What’s this?” he asks, taking it from Arin when he holds it out for him.

“Open it, you dumbass,” Arin says with a sigh, and Dan rolls his eyes and plops down ungracefully on the floor. “Whoa there, grandpa. Don’t break a hip.”

Dan looks up at his roommate with a glare, and he yanks on the leg of his pajama pants, effectively tugging him down with him. Arin glares back when he lands on the floor in an uncoordinated heap. “That’s what happens,” Dan tells him as he picks at the tape securing the wrapping paper on, “bitches get stitches.”

The box is nondescript, with no indication of what’s inside. Dan looks up at Arin, who is watching him intently. Upon noticing Dan watching him, Arin motions with his hand for Dan to just open the fucking box. He removes the lid, and inside he finds a necklace and a keychain. He picks up the keychain first. It’s heavy, and Dan guesses it’s made of pewter. It has three wide discs on it that spin. One side of them is inscribed with Hebrew, and the other side has the same word in English. The three discs read ( **זוהר, אהבה, שִׂמְחָה** ) _shine, love, joy_.

Already, Dan can feel himself getting emotional. He carefully sets the keychain back into the box and picks up the necklace. It’s a pillar pendant made of antiqued sterling silver, with more Hebrew etched upon the front, printed horizontally **(** **גם זה יעבור** ) . Dan furrows his brow, wishing he remembered how to read Hebrew. When he turns the pendant, however, he finds the same phrase on the back in English. _This too shall pass_.

The prickling in the back of his nose begins almost immediately, and before Arin knows what’s happening, Dan has launched himself into his arms. He’s clutching the necklace tight in one hand and gripping the back of Arin’s shirt with the other. Tears flow unbidden down his cheeks, and he laughs, embarrassed. Arin’s used to Dan’s emotional outbursts after living with him for a couple months, but that doesn’t make Dan any less embarrassed when they happen.

Arin rubs Dan’s back and lightly rocks them back and forth. He can still feel all of Dan’s vertebrae through his shirt, but thankfully they’re not as prominent as they had been. The past few months have been rough—lots of medical tests and doctor’s visits, endoscopies and other invasive procedures, and they still weren’t completely sure what was wrong with Dan. He’s been stressed as all hell, dealing with the copay on his medical bills and the cost of medication and the multitudes of doctor’s visits every month, all while working a nine to five job five days a week and working on Ninja Sex Party when he and Brian could align their schedules and timezones to cooperate with each other. On top of all that, he’d _finally_ gotten into a therapist and a psychiatrist, and so he had those appointments to tack onto his already overloaded schedule. There have been a lot of nights where Arin has lain in bed with Dan and held him while he cried and worked through a panic attack, and a lot of days afterwards where Dan’s obsessive compulsive disorder wouldn’t let him get a moment’s rest.

Needless to say, it’s been a struggle.

“Does this mean you like them, or…?” Dan weakly smacks Arin’s chest and he laughs again. It’s a beautiful sound even if it’s watery and thick with tears. Dan releases his grip on Arin’s shirt, apologizing for probably stretching it out, and he sits back on his knees.

“I love it, Arin.” He hands Arin the necklace and turns around, and bunches his hair up on top of his head with his hand. “Will you help me put it on?”

“Of course.” Arin fights for a second with the lobster clasp, cursing his inability to quit biting his nails, but he finally gets it open. It feels almost too intimate as he drapes the necklace around Dan’s neck and pulls one side of it through the space between his arm and head. The baby-fine hairs on the back of Dan’s neck tickle his fingertips as he secures the chain, and he has to hold himself back to keep from pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. Instead, he puts his hands on Dan’s shoulders and squeezes lightly. “There you go.”

It’s completely unexpected, however, when Dan leans back into his touch until his back rests against Arin’s chest. Arin’s not entirely sure what to do with his hands. What’s happening? He doesn’t know the etiquette for this kind of thing. Slowly, so as to give Dan time to stop him if he wants to, Arin wraps his arms around Dan’s waist. When Dan covers Arin’s hands with his own, he’s positive that his heart is going to fall out of his ass.

They sit there in silence for a long time, just watching the twinkling of the lights on their dorky Christmas tree. This close, Arin can smell Dan’s cologne, which is only slightly different from his own, but he can also smell the scent that is just purely _Dan_. It reminds him of crackling campfires and the woods in Vermont. It reminds him of home.

 

 

__ __ __

 

At the airport in the morning, Arin and Dan are left by themselves after Barry and Suzy board their flight to Arizona. There’s an odd tension between them, and Arin doesn’t know what to do about it. In all of the time that he’s known Dan, he’s never once felt tense or awkward around him... until now. Dan won’t quite meet his eyes, and every time he looks over at Dan, the older man looks away. Arin is pleased to see, however, that Dan is still wearing his necklace, and he has his keychain attached to his keyring. He’s been spinning the discs, mumbling under his breath for the past twenty minutes, counting the spins.

When Arin’s flight is called, Dan rouses himself out of his quiet little headspace and hugs Arin tight. Even if things are a little weird right now, he’s not going to let Arin go without a hug. “Merry Christmas, Ar,” he says quietly. Arin returns the sentiment with a smile before getting in line to board his plane. Dan’s won’t be called for another twenty-five minutes or so, so he plugs in his headphones and turns on _2112_ so that he can zone out for a while.

Even though he knows where he left off, he has to restart in his spinning. Sometimes he _really_ hates his OCD, but he would rather be dealing with this facet of it than the cyclical thoughts, especially when in public.

_One hundred twenty-five, one hundred twenty-six, one hundred twenty-seven…_

He makes it to one thousand forty-two before his flight is called for boarding. He’s looking forward to seeing his family. His life has been nothing but stress, and honestly, he really just needs his mom and his grandma.

He can’t wait to be home.


	3. II - There's No Rhyme Or Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're triggered by (non-graphic) depictions of sexual assault, I urge you to skip the date of May 24th. You won't technically miss any plot so you won't be in the dark when it affects Dan later on.

#  Chapter 2 - There’s No Rhyme or Reason

#  Saturday, JANUARY 1, 2011

 

It’s nearing two in the morning, and Arin is (sadly) still awake, lying in his childhood bedroom, which has thankfully had a face-lift since he left home at eighteen. He’s fiddling with a simple game, attempting to pass the time until he gets sleepy. His parents had turned in roughly an hour ago, mildly tipsy from the New Year’s celebration. Arin had had a couple of cans of Pepsi, which was obviously a mistake, seeing as he now can’t sleep.

He closes his game and opens his music library, turning his phone down to the lowest volume possible that isn’t full on mute, and he puts on some of Dan’s older music. He doesn’t think that Dan knows he even has it. Skyhill had come up in conversation a long time ago, and when he had had the chance, Arin checked it out. He’d bought the album after hearing one song. When he can’t sleep, it’s the perfect remedy.

The sounds of ambient rock are interrupted, however, by Dan’s text tone. He hasn’t heard much from Dan over the past few weeks, but he’s not surprised, since Dan is spending much needed time with his family. He pauses the music and opens iMessage, finding that Dan has left him a voice message. He turns the volume up a few notches before hitting play.

_ “Arin, hey, um… I uh... “  _ There’s a chuckle. Dan’s words sound a little loose around the edges, like he’s tipsy. It’s not  _ entirely _ surprising, considering it’s New Year’s, but in the ten months Arin’s known Dan, he hasn’t had alcohol once since it bothers his stomach. He tells himself that it’s nothing to worry about, and that he’s probably just had a glass of champagne while celebrating and that it won’t cause any problems.  _ “M’sorry I made it awkward before we left… I just, I had lots of feelings and they scared me.”  _ Another chuckle, but this one has a self-deprecating tone to it.  _ “Dan, what are you doing?”  _ he mumbles to himself before speaking again to Arin (or at least Arin’s iMessage).  _ “I just wanted you to know that I miss you like I’d miss my left arm if it fell off and I love you so fuckin’ much, man. I can’t wait to be back home so I can see you again.”  _

The message ends and Arin stares at his phone in disbelief. What the fuck? He listens to the message four more times just to make sure it’s real. He even pinches himself. The message stays.

He doesn’t really know whether he should reply or not. He’s got the feeling that Dan is going to be incredibly embarrassed about the voicemail come morning, so he shoots back with an  _ I miss you too <3  _ and goes back to his music library. He’s unsure which it is that lulls him to sleep—Dan’s beautiful voice or the warm feeling that’s settled in his chest from the knowledge that Dan misses him.   
  


#  Monday, JANUARY 3, 2011

  
  


Arin jumps every time a car door slams on their street, and after the eighth time, he’s starting to feel like an idiot. He arrived home yesterday, expecting Dan to already be here, but he had gotten a phone call from a very hoarse Dan who had explained that he’d missed his flight because he was throwing up in the airport bathroom, and the soonest flight he could get was for today. 

Immediately after getting off the phone, Arin had marked in Dan’s medical journal that he had missed a flight because of his stomach problems. Dan had been asked to start it to see if the doctors could find some sort of pattern to go along with the stomach problems, and so far the only thing they’ve been able to pinpoint is certain trigger foods. 

He’s halfway through an episode of House Hunters International when he hears Dan’s keys in the front door, and Arin stands up so fast he gets dizzy. “Honey, I’m home!” Dan calls, shoving the door open with his foot. He just barely gets his suitcase and backpack set down on the couch before Arin hugs him tight and spins him in a circle. He hadn’t realized how much he missed Dan’s laugh until now. “Arin!” Dan squeals, his accent coming out more prominently than usual due to spending a few weeks back in Jersey. “Why can’t I get this kind of greeting every time I come home?”

“I mean, you could if you wanted,” Arin says as he relinquishes his hold on the older man. “I just figure that if I do it  _ every _ time it begins to lose its novelty after a while.” 

Dan toes off his ratty sneakers and hangs his leather jacket up in the coat closet. He looks good—he’s apparently brought back some more clothes from New Jersey, or Dana forcibly took him shopping. Probably the latter. His jeans are miraculously free of holes and he’s wearing a shirt that  _ doesn’t  _ have the name of a band from the eighties on it. Instead, he’s wearing a dark turquoise cotton shirt that looks ridiculously good on him. Arin’s heart swells when he sees that Dan is still wearing the necklace.

Dan chuckles and fiddles with the pendant when he catches Arin staring. “I haven’t taken it off. Well, except to shower. I asked Avi whether it was okay to get it wet and he said it was best to take it off. Oxidization or some shit like that.”

It feels like his smile is going to split his face, and Dan rolls his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that, man!” In response, Arin scrunches his face up into what is best described as something only a goblin could love, and Dan giggles. “Ah, yes, that’s what gets me hot under the collar.”

The awkwardness that had settled in before they’d left for the holidays seems to have vanished, and for that, Arin is incredibly grateful. Dan excuses himself, as he needs to use the restroom and put away his things. Arin nods and settles back on the couch.

Dan tosses his dirty clothes from the day before into his hamper and puts away the clean ones, along with his toiletries and the things he’d gotten for Christmas from his friends. He unwraps the box he’d protected with his pajama pants. Dana had refused to help him wrap it, and honestly, he’s pretty sure that his nephew Nash (who just turned one) could have wrapped it better. Dana had pointed out that what matters is that Dan did it himself. He’d told her to shut up.

He clutches the box tightly in his hands, not wanting to accidentally drop it in a sudden bout of stupidity as he returns to the living room, where Arin is curled up like a cat on the couch watching HGTV of all things. He’s a little nervous to give Arin his Christmas present, because he  _ knows _ that Arin has at least an idea of what it’s worth and he’s almost positive that Arin will yell at him for spending so much money on him.

Arin looks up from the TV when he reenters the room, and Dan smiles nervously. “I uh, I have your Christmas present,” he says, still clutching the horribly wrapped box close to his body. Arin perks up and smiles. He hadn’t really expected to get anything from Dan and he was absolutely fine with that. Dan sits down on the couch and hands Arin the box. “Needless to say, I’m not very good with wrapping paper.”

He’s trying really hard not to laugh, but he can’t hold it in anymore, and he cackles. Dan pouts for a moment, but he can’t help but join in. It truly is abhorrent that he’s thirty-one and he still can’t wrap a gift. Arin tears off the wrapping paper, and the moment he has the paper off, he freezes.

Dan watches in apprehension as Arin stares blankly at the bright pink box. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek like a madman, and he knows he’s going to have a sore tomorrow. Arin sets the box on the coffee table and turns to face Dan. He’s surprised to see that there are unshed tears in Arin’s eyes. “Arin?” 

“You actually remembered?” 

A few months ago Dan had come across Arin browsing the web, looking at figurines and action figures, mourning the rare ones that he wanted and either couldn’t afford or couldn’t find anywhere. The one he’d bitched the most about was a Sailor Moon figurine made by a company called Kaiyodo from 2001. Dan had agreed that she was very pretty, dressed in an extra fancy uniform that Arin had explained was her Super Sailor suit. It was made of cold cast resin and cost upwards of two hundred dollars, if not more.

Dan had tracked one down.

He nervously fiddles with his fingers. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “You really wanted it, and I like seeing you happy.” He barely has a second to process anything before he has an armful of Arin Hanson. Dan wraps his arms around Arin and hugs him tight. “I wanted to find you something for the cute green Sailor girl, but I couldn’t find one. I know she’s your favorite.”

Arin wipes his eyes with a quiet sniffle. He sits back so he can look his roommate in the face. “You shouldn’t have spent that much money on me,” he tells Dan, frowning. Dan reaches out with one long finger and pokes Arin in the forehead.

“I wanted to do something nice for you, so shut up.” It’s said with a sweet smile and another poke to his forehead, and Arin swats at Dan’s hand.

“Thank you,” Arin says. “I’m gonna put this up on the shelf until I can get a case for it.” He takes the figurine to his room and places it on one of his shelves. Sadly the box doesn’t have a window in it, otherwise he would just leave it inside. 

Before heading back to the living room, he splashes his face with water, attempting to quell the red blotchiness that has appeared on his skin from almost crying. Thankfully, it helps, and he finds Dan stretched out against one side of the couch, flipping through Netflix. He smiles at Arin upon noticing him. “Come watch Godzilla with me.”

They watch three terrible movies with their legs tangled together on the cushion between them.

 

#  Thursday, JANUARY 6, 2011

 

Arin sits bolt upright when his bedroom door is kicked open. “Whasshappen?” he mumbles, blinking blearily into the bright sunlight that fills his room. “Wheres’a fire?”

“Good morning, Starshine! The Earth says hello!”

Arin groans loudly and flops back down, dragging his covers over his head. “No,” he grumbles. He hears a quiet clatter, and then there’s a hundred and forty pounds of lanky Jewish man on his bed, straddling his blanket-clad form. “How much cocaine did you inhale this morning?”

“Not sure, but I left some for you,” Dan shoots back. He’s not usually a morning person, but he’s been up since five and he’s had three cups of coffee already. “Get the fuck up, Hanson. I made you breakfast.”

Arin shoves a laughing Dan off of him and sits up again. His hair is a mess and his Breathe-Right strip is starting to peel off, but when he finishes rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he sees that Dan is wearing an old flannel shirt that’s unbuttoned almost to his navel (what’s the point of even buttoning it at that point?), knee high black socks, and a pair of heart patterned boxers, and suddenly Arin doesn’t feel so disheveled anymore. 

Dan catches Arin eyeing his outfit, and he strikes a dorky pose. “Like what you see?”

Arin snorts loudly. “You are the epitome of fashion,” he says dryly.

“I’m glad that you recognize greatness when you see it.” Dan grabs a tray off of Arin’s dresser and sets it in Arin’s lap before climbing back on the bed and settling cross-legged across from him. His bony knees stick out for what seems like a mile in both directions, and it’s weirdly adorable. “Happy birthday.”

The tray has two plates of pancakes and a saucer with slightly overdone bacon on it, along with a bowl of fruit and two forks. There’s a bottle of Sunny D on its side as well, since Dan didn’t feel comfortable in his ability to carry a full glass of orange juice on a tray. It’s been almost ten years since he’s been a waiter, and he’d rather not have to clean up an orange juice spill this morning.

“Wow, you managed to make pancakes without burning them,” Arin quips, but he hands Dan one of the forks and settles the tray between the two of them. He yelps when Dan pokes his hand with the utensil.

“I’m good at making pancakes, thank you! Bacon, however…” He grimaces at the plate of crispy bacon. “I don’t eat it, so I don’t really know how to cook it. If it’s not good I won’t be offended if you don’t finish it.” Dan cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.

If anyone actually  _ cooks  _ breakfast in their house, it’s Arin. Dan can’t be trusted to make most things, unless one wants them burnt in varying degrees or fucked up in some new, creative way. Arin really needs to teach him how to cook properly. He pokes at the pancakes as if they’re going to eat him, and Dan glares.

“I will bodyslam you if you don’t eat those fucking pancakes,” he threatens.

“Sounds like a good birthday present to me.” Arin winks, and Dan quickly looks down at his plate and shoves a large bite into his mouth.

The pancakes are very good and it's so worth it for him to tell Dan this because the happy smile he gets in return is brighter than the sunshine that's bathing his room. He eats half of the bacon before giving up and deciding his teeth don't need that kind of punishment. He and Dan share the bowl of fruit, though they spend a large portion of their time trying to stab each other with their forks over who gets what. 

After breakfast, Dan has to go into work, but he promises to bring home Wendy’s for Arin. When the door closes behind him, Arin sighs and drapes himself over the back of the couch. He’s only lived with Dan for like, four and a half months and he’s already going crazy. Suzy takes every opportunity she can to needle him about it, because that’s what Suzy does. She’s always been his biggest cheerleader, no matter what it is. He loves that girl with every cell in his body.

Arin doesn’t use the fact that it’s his birthday as an excuse to slack off. He’s been working hard on the Dinosaur Laser Fight animation, and he’s through most of the rough sketches. It’s like, a millbillion frames, but it’s always worth all of the time and effort to see the finished product, knowing that  _ he _ created that out of nothing but lines and colors.

While he works, he plays Ninja Sex Party, Skyhill, and The Northern Hues on Spotify, keeping the volume low so that it’s more background than anything. He only turns it up after he eats lunch, and he’s still listening to the playlist on a shuffled repeat when Dan comes home, brandishing a bag of Wendy’s. He pauses in the doorway, however, when he realizes what Arin is listening to.

“Oh, my God, is that The Hues?” Arin flounders for a moment before shrugging. He scratches the back of his head with the tip of his tablet pen. 

“Yeah,” he admits, because what the hell else can he say? No? 

Dan’s cheeks have gone pink and he sounds flustered. “Why in the everloving hell are you listening to The Hues?”

“Because they’re good?” Arin tries. Dan’s blush darkens. “If you say they aren’t I’m going to whack you with that Wendy’s bag, Daniel.” The older man grumbles and kicks off his shoes and drops his backpack on the couch before shuffling into the kitchen. Arin can hear him mumbling to himself and he chuckles.

He quintuple checks that his work is saved before putting his computer to sleep and following Dan into the kitchen. He laughs upon entering, seeing as Dan has plated his food on the ‘good’ plates (AKA the ones his mom had gotten him a few years ago for Christmas… you know, ones that actually  _ match _ ) and he’s poured tea into a champagne flute. Arin didn’t even know that they  _ had _ champagne flutes.

Dan has a sandwich on his own plate along with some apple slices, and his own champagne flute filled with tea. “I would have lit some candles but I don’t think we have any. We should probably fix that in case the lights go out sometime.”

Arin sweeps Dan up into a hug, still laughing. “I love you, man,” he says. He means it, too. He fucking loves this goofy idiot of a man, probably a lot more than he should. He can deal with it, though. Having Dan in his life in  _ any _ capacity is already more than he deserves.

Dan giggles and squeezes Arin tight. He’s warm and he smells like Old Spice and sweat and their laundry detergent, and it’s already making the stress of the day seep out of his bones. “I love you too, brother. Happy birthday.”

Dan hooks his ankle around Arin’s foot while they talk about their perspective days, and he doesn’t let go until it’s time to clean up.

  
  


#  Thursday, FEBRUARY 10, 2010

  
  


Dan and Arin lean against each other, hunched over the jumbo word search puzzle on their laps, each with a pen. They’ve made it a competition—whoever can find the most words wins. So far, Dan is two ahead, but Arin is bound and determined to catch up and kick the older man’s ass.

They’re talking about Dan’s job and how he’s making friends now that the rotation of interns has slowed down in the office and there are people that are regular fixtures. He’s made friends with a goofy guy named Vernon, who likes to send him a picture of what they’ve dubbed ‘wolfjob’. The first time Dan forwarded it to Arin, Arin had cried laughing.

Dan has also been talking about his friend Brooke, whom he’d met while working at Mondo. Now that he works at Maker, he sees her every day. She’s petite and pretty and has a gorgeous laugh.

“I’m thinking about asking her out for Valentine’s Day,” Dan says offhandedly, circling the word  _ sailboat _ and crossing it off. “It’s been a few years since I’ve done anything on Valentine’s except eat chocolate and then later on wish for death as I feel my body lapsing into a diabetic coma.”

Arin huffs, annoyed. He’s heard a fair bit about Brooke over the past week, and he’s starting to get tired of it. He’s not going to say anything—he’s too polite for that. He can feel himself getting frustrated, and he really doesn’t want to snap at Dan, so he works on channeling the negative emotion into completely kicking Dan’s ass at the wordsearch.

“So, do you think I should?”

_ Great. He wants my opinion.  _ He  _ wants _ to say no, but he has no legitimate reason for that answer. “Yeah, man, go for it.” Aha! He circles  _ portside  _ and  _ bow _ and crosses them off. They’re tied now and there are only three words left.

Arin feels Dan shifting against him nervously. “She’s super fuckin’ pretty though, and like,  _ way _ out of my league.” Arin knows Dan well enough to know that he’s not fishing for compliments—this is something he wholeheartedly believes.

“Dude,” Arin says, finally turning to look at his roommate.  _ Bad decision _ . Dan has his bottom lip sucked between his teeth and he’s teasing it with his tongue.  _ Bad, bad decision. Abort. Abort mission.  _ Arin looks back to the wordsearch, steadfastly refusing to look away from the jumble of letters. “You’re a fucking catch.”

Dan chews on the tip of his pen and looks over at Arin. His hair is hanging in his face, so Dan can’t fully read his expression, but what he can see looks a little pinched, though it could just be from concentration. Or gas. Knowing Arin, it’s probably gas. The clicker of the pen clacks against his teeth quietly. “I wholeheartedly disagree,” he finally says. “She’s also like, twenty three or something. I don’t want to be the creepy guy in his thirties, you know?”

_ Don’t look up. Don’t look up.  _

He looks up

_ Fuckin’... Good job, Hanson. _

“ _ I’m _ twenty four,” Arin points out, and he can already feel where his mouth is taking this, all while his brain is trying to yank the emergency brake into place so he  _ shuts the fuck up _ . Apparently the emergency brake needs a lake full of WD-40, because the next words out of his mouth are, “Would it be weird if you asked  _ me _ out?”

_ And the metaphorical train has crashed… _

Dan stares at Arin in disbelief, eyes wide and eyebrows raised as high as they’ll go. “Uh,” he says, as it’s all he can come up with at the moment.  _ It’s not the age that would make it strange to ask Arin out… _ While he’s staring at his friend like he’s just grown a second head, Arin finds the last three words of the wordsearch, and he tosses his pen on the coffee table and stands up abruptly, making Dan nearly drop the word puzzle book. “Arin?”

“I win. Gotta go take a celebratory shit,” he says, and then fucking  _ bolts _ .

“Well,” Dan says quietly into the quiet of the room, “that was different.”

 

#  Friday, FEBRUARY 11, 2011

  
  


Arin can practically feel Dan’s dejected mood the moment he walks in through the door. It fills the space like smoke. After last night, Arin had been incredibly awkward and they’d barely spoken that morning over breakfast. “What’s up, buddy?” He has an idea of what’s happened, but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions.

Dan flops over the back of the couch, burying his face in the pillow on top of the cushion. He groans, muffled into the fabric before hauling the rest of his body over the couch. “She already has plans for Valentine’s Day,” he says into the pillow. Arin sighs and hauls himself out of his chair, only to plop down on the floor between the coffee table and the couch. Dan looks up at him through his wild mane. “I feel like an idiot.”

Arin tentatively pats Dan’s head, but when Dan leans into the touch, he runs his fingers through Danny’s wild hair. It’s pretty shaggy now, and the curls seem to become more unruly every damn day. It’s dry beneath his fingers and he can hear the crackle of it, but he doesn’t care. Dan so rarely lets him touch his hair that he’s definitely going to take this opportunity.

“Why do you feel like an idiot? How are you supposed to know she has plans?”

Dan groans into the pillow. Fuck Arin and his fucking logic. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly.”

Arin can feel Dan starting to relax under his ministrations, and he wants to shout ‘ _ this is why you should let me play with your hair more often you fucking muppet _ ’ but now isn’t really the time, he doesn’t suppose. Instead, he offers to be Dan’s Valentine instead. Dan looks up at him again and blows his hair out of his face.

“You’re kidding, right?” He says it in a way that lets Arin know it’s not supposed to be hurtful, that it’s meant in a  _ what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about-dude _ way.

“Nah, man,” Arin says, waving his hand dismissively, “I’m the best Valentine ever. Who could turn down a man that is a pick-up line master?” Dan rolls onto his side, which means Arin has to withdraw his hand from Dan’s hair. He props his head up on one hand and stares at Arin with a grin on his face.

“A master, huh? Lay ‘em on me, baby.” Arin instead turns on the television, flipping to Law and Order. Dan squawks indignantly behind him. Arin ignores him and chews on his thumbnail for a minute. “Wow, your skills are unparalleled,” Dan says flatly.

He bites down a little too hard on his cuticle and hisses in pain.

“You okay?” Dan questions, suddenly concerned. He tugs Arin’s hand away from his mouth. “That’s why you shouldn’t do that.”

“Do you have a band-aid?” Dan looks at Arin’s hand, which he’s still holding, and his thumb may be a little red, but it’s not bleeding. He opens his mouth to say that no, he doesn’t, and that Arin doesn’t need one when Arin interrupts. “Because I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

Dan groans loudly and shoves Arin lightly. “You’re already sitting on the ground you idiot.” Arin snickers at Dan’s dramatic reaction.

“Do you smoke pot?” Arin asks while he tries to keep from giggling.

“Not anymore no,” Dan answers, confused. Arin knows this.

“Because  _ weed  _ be cute together.”

“Arin!” Dan buries his face in the pillow again. “Oh my God, these are so bad.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Arin says dismissively, leaning his head back against Dan’s side. “I am the fucking  _ master _ of pick-up lines.”

“Master of shitty pick-up lines, maybe.”

“You’re so beautiful that you made me  _ forget _ my pick-up line.” Dan nudges him again.

“Stooooooop,” Dan whines through his laughter. “I get it, I get it!”

“If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I’d have a galaxy in my hand.” Okay, that one was maybe a little too true to form. Thankfully, Dan still has his face planted in the pillow so he can’t see Arin’s flushed cheeks. He turns back to the TV. He can feel Dan’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t budge. He has no idea what’s going on in the show since he missed the opening by fifteen minutes, but he’s pretending that he knows because that gives him a legitimate reason to not turn back around instead of just being a pussy about the fact that he might’ve gotten a little too real there for a moment.

In the light that’s filtering in from the living room window, Dan can see the different shades in Arin’s hair—reds and blonds and varying shades of brown. He scoots closer until he can drape his arm over Arin’s shoulder and chest. Arin tenses up and Dan squeezes a bit harder. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I needed that.”

“Y-yeah, of course, man,” Arin says, dutifully staring at the television. He can feel Dan’s breath on his neck and his entire body is erupting in goosebumps. “If I can make you laugh, I’ve done my job.”

Dan smiles softly and nudges the back of Arin’s neck with his forehead. He’s really lucky to have Arin. He wants to make sure Dan is happy as much as possible, and he also fully understands that sometimes it’s not possible. He makes him laugh when plausible and wipes his tears when implausible. It’s hard for Dan to find someone like that nowadays. 

They stay wrapped together like that until dinnertime.

 

#  Monday, FEBRUARY 14, 2011

 

Dan has only just hung up his jacket in the closet when his roommate shouts his name. He turns and (thankfully) catches the small package of Ferrero Rocher chocolates that comes sailing at his head. “Jesus, dude!” Dan exclaims. “You really need to work on your fuckin’ aim.”

Arin stands in the doorway to the kitchen, nibbling on one of the chocolates that he has in his hand. “I figured that if I hit your head your massive fucking hair would protect you.”

“Oh, har, har,” Dan says with a roll of his eyes. He’s excited about the chocolates, the way they were delivered notwithstanding. They’re generally his 7/11 impulse buy, but lately he hasn’t really had the two dollars to spare on chocolate. “Thank you, by the way.” He raises the chocolate package in a mock salute.

“Gotta get my Valentine’s honey something fancy, right?” Dan rolls his eyes and instead of answering, crams one of the chocolates into his mouth. Arin winks at him and he looks away, flustered. “We’re having Chinese for dinner,” Arin informs him. “Is your usual okay? It didn’t bother your stomach the past few times, did it?” 

They’ve been slowly cutting out certain foods from Dan’s diet to help with all of the digestive issues, and thankfully it’s been helping. He’d also finally been put on medication to help with the cramping and acid reflux and nausea. His usual order should be bland enough to not cause him any issues. 

“Yeah, the usual should be okay. Can we also get spring rolls?”

“I’m on it.”

Arin insists on paying for dinner, and to repay  _ him _ for paying for dinner, Dan gives him his last two chocolates and half of his rice and proceeds to fall asleep with his head in Arin’s lap no less than fifteen minutes later.

It’s the best Valentine’s Day he’s ever had.

  
  


#  Friday, APRIL 8, 2011

  
  


Dan stares down at the expensive Cintiq tablet in front of him. He’s absolutely fucking terrified to touch it. He still struggles to figure out how to run his damn iPhone and Arin wants him to use a drawing tablet that costs more than he has in the bank. And this is Arin’s  _ cheaper _ tablet!

“Dude, you look like I’ve just told you you’re going to the electric chair,” Arin says, way too amused for Dan’s liking. He takes his seat in his desk chair next to Dan, who glares at him. “Dude, you’ll be absolutely fine. It’s not like I’m asking you to paint me a Monet.” Arin drags color palettes around on the workspace, making sure that all of them are visible and labeled. Suzy usually helped him with coloring and line cleaning, but she’s eight months pregnant and very grumpy, and thus Arin had decided that he would (try to) teach Dan to use his old Cintiq.

“What if I break it?” Dan finally asks aloud, which is the question that’s been on repeat in his head since Arin announced twenty five minutes ago that he was going to be teaching him this. “What if I somehow delete all of your animation and you have to do everything again? You’ve been working on that for over a year!”

Arin spins Dan’s chair, bumping their knees together. He cups Dan’s jaw in his hands (which is probably a bad idea in the long run for him in trying to get over the crush he has on Dan), and Dan’s eyes widen. 

His sharp inhale is barely audible, but it’s there, and his heartrate ratchets up. He’s positive that Arin can feel the jump of his pulse where his wrist rests against his neck. This close, he can see the miniscule freckles on Arin’s nose and cheeks and the red hue to his eyelashes, and the cinnamon whiskey warmth of his eyes. He’s also pretty sure he stopped breathing thirty seconds ago.

“Dan, you’re not going to ruin it. I have everything saved and I have several backups.” Arin’s breath smells like wintergreen. “You’re just going to color, okay? I  _ promise _ you that you won’t break anything. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t trust you.”

The back of his nose prickles, warning him of incoming tears, but he crushes the urge down. He cries too fucking much and at the simplest things. His head starts to feel a little light and he realizes that he  _ did indeed _ stop breathing. The deep breath he takes is refreshing, and when he has proper oxygen going back into his brain, he nods. “Thank you, Ar.”

Arin releases his hold on Dan’s face and turns back to his own tablet.  _ Why had he done that?  _ He could have given that speech  _ without _ turning it into a scene from the goddamn Notebook. They sit in silence for a while as Arin cleans up lines and Dan colors in the frames. Dan is finally getting comfortable, and he’s stopped panicking about breaking the equipment. The silence is starting to get to him, however.

“Hey, Ar?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you listen to my old music often?” It feels like a really narcissistic and egotistical question to ask, but he’s really curious. Ever since he’d come home to find Arin listening to The Northern Hues, it’s been on his mind. He’s not  _ ashamed _ of his old stuff, but he also has a hard time looking back on it without cringing.

Arin glances over at Dan with a smile on his face. “I listen to your stuff a lot, actually, especially when I can’t sleep. You’re an incredible lyricist, Dan.”

Dan ducks his head towards his chest, embarrassed. “Thank you.” He hadn’t really had to…  _ try _ to write the songs for The Hues and Skyhill. They’d all been resultant of his life falling apart around him and the only way he could get it out was to write it down.

“Can I ask a question now?” He’s hesitant, but he’s wanted to know since he’d listened to the album the first time. Dan nods, not looking up from the dinosaur he’s coloring fuschia. “Did you ever speak to her again?” 

Dan pauses for a second before chuckling, tone depreciative. “Which one?”

“The one you wrote an entire album about,” says Arin, quiet. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

Dan shrugs. “It’s been six years,” he points out, as if that should mean that he should be completely over it. Time heals all wounds and all that bullshit, right? Dan is silent for long enough that Arin figures that’s the end of the conversation, but Dan speaks up again. “We were together for a little over two years, and I was so fucking in love with her, man.” They’d met through a mutual friend and had hit it off  _ immediately _ . He’d fallen hard and fast for her. “I’ve been in love a couple of times, but never like that. I uh… I was seriously considering asking her to marry me.”

Arin stares at Dan in wonder. It may have been six years ago, but he still sounds hurt somewhere underneath the surface. “What happened?”

“She cheated on me.”

Arin feels it like a punch to the gut. Jesus Christ, that had to have been rough as hell on Dan. Everything he wants to say sounds cliché and like it’s off of a fucking sympathy card.  _ You deserved better. Her loss. I’m sorry. You’re worth so much more than that. She doesn’t know what she missed out on _ . Instead, he settles with “shit, man.” Eloquent. Real eloquent. 

They work for a few more minutes in silence before Arin decides to try human interaction again. “I don’t know shit about music,” he prefaces, “but like… Your music always telegraphs emotion really well, you know? But it’s not always immediate as to what emotion that is, if that makes any sense?”

“What do you mean?” Dan asks, curious. He puts down the tablet pen so that he can give his hand a bit of a rest. He flexes his fingers, massaging at the side of his hand. He turns his chair a bit so that he can watch Arin work.

“It took me five or six listens through Run With the Hunted to actually  _ get _ how much pain you were in, man. It’s got so many fucking layers and when you hit the last one, you’re just like “oh  _ shit _ ” and then you cry for a bit.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Having someone react in an emotional way  _ because _ of your music or anything you create is like, a dream. Knowing that you can evoke feelings within people with the bullshit you’ve pulled out of your head feels like magic. Danny’s never gotten to feel that magic with Skyhill before. “I… I’m sorry it made you cry.”

Arin looks over at Dan, surprised. “No, dude, don’t be! It was awesome.”

Dan laughs, short and sharp. “Crying was awesome?” He rests his head on Arin’s shoulder, watching him clean up lines. “You’re a weird one, Arin Hanson.”

The weight and warmth of Dan pressed against him is comforting, and Arin reaches up with his free hand and pats Dan’s head. “I’m your weird one, though.”

Dan’s stomach swoops happily and he smiles wide. “You sure are.”

 

#  Friday, APRIL 15, 2011

 

When Dan gets home from work, instead of leaning over the back of Arin’s chair to see what he’s working on like he always does, he heads right to his room. Arin stares down the hallway after him, confused. A minute later, Dan enters the bathroom and the shower starts. Weird.

He goes back to working on the animation, tweaking lines here and there. Arin knows Dan’s washing his hair, too, because his shower takes longer than five minutes. Sure enough, the hair dryer fires up, and fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door opens. Dan heads down the hall with a towel wrapped around his waist, and Arin  _ really  _ tries not to stare (try being the operative word, here) but holy shit, man. Dan’s gained back quite a bit of the weight he’d lost over the past year, and Arin no longer feels like he could play a diddy on his vertebrae and ribs with xylophone mallets. 

Arin can’t concentrate anymore, and he saves his progress and proceeds to shut down his tablet and computer. It feels good to get up and stretch after having been in a computer chair for five hours. It may have great lumbar support, but lumbar support does not make up for the joy of stretching after sitting for a long time. He groans as his back pops. He really should get up more often, even if it’s just to walk around the house before continuing to work.

He’s just settled on the couch with a small bowl of pretzels and a can of seltzer when Dan emerges. Arin blinks owlishly, trying to decide whether what he’s seeing is actually real or not. Dan is dressed  _ properly _ , and not like he walked out of the 80s. His jeans aren’t ripped and they actually fit pretty damn well, and he’s wearing a fucking dress shirt. Arin didn’t even know Dan  _ owned _ a dress shirt. It’s dark blue and untucked, and the top three buttons are undone. The necklace Arin got Dan for Christmas shows perfectly.

The real kicker, however, is that his hair is some semblance of tamed. It actually looks brushed and not like crows are about to come flying out of it. He’s wearing his glasses, which Arin has commented on many times, saying that they look sexy on him. Dan usually just rolls his eyes and pokes him and tells him to keep his kinky librarian fantasies to himself.

“Uh, wow,” Arin says. “You look really nice. Going somewhere?”

Dan smiles nervously. “I have a date, actually.”

Arin smiles back tightly, and it doesn’t reach his eyes. If Dan notices, he doesn’t say anything. “That’s awesome. What’s her name?” 

“Liam.”

Pretzels are not supposed to go into someone’s lungs, which is why Arin coughs roughly when he attempts to inhale one. Dan quickly holds Arin’s arms above his head to help him keep his airway open while he coughs. Once he’s sure he’s not going to die, he looks up at Dan through watery eyes. “You’re going on a date with a guy?”

Dan frowns. Why does Arin sound so… whatever that is? “Yeah,” he says slowly. “He’s one of Vernon’s friends.” Liam works in a different office at Maker, but Dan has had lunch with him multiple times this week, and today he’d asked Dan if he’d like to go to dinner, too.

He’s not sure how, but he knows he’s fucked up, and Dan is now peeved. “I just didn’t know you were into dudes, that’s all,” he says hastily and crams a pretzel into his mouth. He kind of hopes he chokes on this one and just dies before he manages to somehow really piss Dan off.

Dan is about to say something when there’s a knock on the door. His entire face lights up and he hurries to the door and slips on his shoes. “I’ll be home in a few hours, I suppose,” he tells Arin, who is desperately praying for death by pretzel.

The television drones on once Dan leaves, and Arin glares at his bowl of snack food. “Why couldn’t you have just suffocated me?” he asks the bowl. Thankfully, he doesn’t get an answer. 

 

__ __ __

  
  


The sun is just starting to go down when Arin is roused from his catnap by the sound of giggling outside of the front door. He groans and covers his ear with his hand. He really, really doesn’t want to hear Dan getting a goodnight kiss from  _ Liam _ . He can’t even say the dude’s name in his head without it coming out like a curse word.

With a squeak, the front door opens. Dan closes it as quietly as he can once he sees Arin laying on the couch. He’s in the middle of getting his sneakers off when Arin speaks.

“So, how’d it go?”

Dan screams and clutches his chest. “Fucking hell, dude!” Arin stares at him blankly over the back of the couch. “Warn a guy next time. Wave a white flag or put your blinkers on or something. Holy shit.”

“The batteries are dead in my blinkers and I accidentally dyed all my white flags pink in the wash, so you’re shit out of luck.”

Dan fixes him with a flat stare. “Good to see you haven’t lost your sassiness.” He unbuttons his shirt halfway, and for some reason that makes Arin relax. It’s the typical way Dan wears anything that buttons up, because he’s fucking weird. He comes around the couch as he unbuckles his pants, and he’s hopping out of his jeans by the time he’s in the hallway. The pants get tossed onto the top of the dryer after Dan removes his wallet from the back pocket. He’s still got his socks on, but since he has perpetually cold feet, he leaves them on.

Arin waits for Dan to finish doing whatever he’s doing, and after he hears the toilet flush and the sink run, Dan sits down on the couch and stretches his legs out, resting his feet in Arin’s lap. They stare at each other for a minute, neither saying anything. Arin looks away first.

“Did your date go well?”

Dan shrugs. “It was nice. We had dinner and talked and whatnot.”

“Are you gonna see him again?” Dan’s smile tells him everything.

“Yeah. We’re gonna go to a movie on Wednesday.” Arin pats Dan’s hairy shin.

“Good for you, man.” He means it, too. It’s good for Dan to get out of the house and spend time with someone who  _ isn’t _ Arin. “Damn, it’s been for-fucking-ever since I’ve been on a date. I think I’ve forgotten how, actually.”

“Jeez, that long, huh?”

Arin shrugs one shoulder halfheartedly. It doesn’t really bother him very much. “I went on a few dates after Suzy and I split, but nothing came of them.” Arin flinches when Dan’s legs jerk off of his lap and his bony heel digs into the muscle of his thigh.

“Wait,  _ what _ ?” Dan sits up, leaning forward towards Arin with wide eyes. “I thought you were gay!”

“I am.”

“ _ What _ ?” Arin’s lips twitch as he tries to hold in the laughter, but he can’t do it anymore. He cackles loudly, holding onto his stomach. Dan’s bewilderment is just too cute. Dan crosses his arms over his chest and pouts out his bottom lip. “It’s a valid question!”

“I’m biromantic, Dan,” Arin explains once he’s stopped giggling. Dan tilts his head to the side like a goddamn puppy, and Arin has to resist the urge to punch himself in the face to counteract it. “I’m romantically interested in—”

Dan flaps his hands. “I know what biromanticism is, shut up.” He’d never considered someone being homosexual  _ and _ biromantic, though. It sounds kind of confusing. With a sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair. “I dunno, I never really thought to mention that I’m also into dudes? It just didn’t seem important.”

This makes Arin frown. “It’s not important as like, an identifier, but it’s  _ important _ because it’s part of who you are.” Dan shrugs.

“I guess. It’s just not something I really put out there. I don’t walk up to people like, ‘Hey, I’m Dan, and I’m pansexual!’ Like… I dunno, it’s not their business.” There’s something else there, and Arin can feel that Dan’s not happy about it. His entire demeanor is changing. Arin opens his arms wide and pats his chest in invitation.

“C’mere.”

After a moment of consideration, Dan sighs and gives in, crawling to rest between Arin’s legs. He wraps his arms around Arin’s waist and settles his head on his chest. His heartbeat is loud and it immediately sets Dan at ease. He wonders how many friends do this, how many cuddle like fucking lovers do.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Arin says quietly while he strokes Dan’s hair. He’s never touched it the same day that Dan’s washed it, and it’s much softer than usual. “Are you still struggling with accepting that about yourself?”

Leave it to Arin to be able to read him like a fucking book. Arin is the only person he can’t hide jack shit from. “Yes and no,” Dan answers. “Like, I know that there’s nothing wrong with it, but like… I grew up in Jersey in the 80s, man. It gets pounded into your head—sometimes literally—that being gay is  _ not _ okay. Just being emotional made people call you a fag, which, needless to say, was fucking rough on me since I cry at the drop of a goddamn hat.” Dan laughs, but the sound lacks any humor. “I watched one of my friends get beaten up by a bunch of kids because he was gay. When I realized that I liked dudes, I hid that shit because I  _ had _ to. I didn’t  _ want _ to. I wasn’t ashamed of it, because like, fuck man, who I’m attracted to has no bearing on anything else about me and it shouldn’t be anybody’s business but my own, but I hid it for my own safety.”

Growing up in Florida was  _ definitely _ rough for Arin, so he knows exactly what Dan’s talking about. Luckily he lived in south Florida, but he also lived in a smaller town that wasn’t as… accepting, as say, Miami would have been. He’d always been the weird one, the one that liked pink and Hello Kitty and Barbies and dressing up. So many teachers had tried to pressure him into joining sports because he had the perfect body type for it, but he refused. More than once he’d come home with a busted lip or scraped knees and bruises.

Dan closes his eyes and snuggles closer to Arin. “I guess some part of me is still afraid that if I suddenly announce it, I’ll get the living shit kicked out of me.”

“They’ll have to go through me, first,” Arin tells him, and Dan laughs softly.

“You got it, baby girl.”

 

#  Tuesday, MAY 24, 2011

  
  


A while after Dan comes home from his date, Arin finds him curled up in the porch swing nursing a cup of jasmine tea. It might be May and it might also be like, seventy fucking degrees out with a heaping fuckbucket of humidity, but Dan has on his Giants beanie and he has a thin thermal blanket wrapped around his shoulders. How he survived in the northeast for thirty years, Arin has no idea. Dan doesn’t look at him, but he scoots over a pinch to make room for Arin, who sits down and rubs Dan’s back.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Dan stares into his tea. It’s dark enough out on the porch that he can’t see much more than the reflection of the light from inside the house in his tea. He and Liam had started dating after their second date, and it’d been a really nice month and a half, but things had started to go sour a few weeks ago.

“He dumped me,” Dan says quietly. His tea is soothing on his throat. He’d cried on the way home and for a bit in the driveway, and his throat is still scratchy. “He got really mad because I didn’t want to have sex.”

Arin tenses up. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He’s never thrown a punch in his life, but if that bastard hurt Dan, that’s about to change.

 

_**Th** _ **_ey'd been on Liam's bed making out, when Liam had cupped him through his jeans. He'd pushed Liam's hand off of his crotch. He'd done it two more times, tugging at the zipper and popping the button before Dan had pulled away from him, demanding to know what he thought he was doing._ **

**_“Giving you what you want. Why are you being such a fucking tease?” Liam snaps._ **

**_“I'm not! I'm not ready for that, man! I told you that.”_ **

**_“You sure don't act like it.” Dan's chest seizes. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s uncomfortable and scared and it feels like his brain is going both a mile a minute and not moving at all. “Acting like a fucking whore and then getting pissy when I try and give you what you want.”_ **

**_“But I_ ** **don't** **_want this,” he insists, getting up off the bed and rebuttoning his flannel._ **

**_“I bet you put out for_ ** **him** **_.” Liam's face is twisted into a sneer. “Bet you spread your legs for him any time he asks.”_ **

**_“Who the fuck are you talking about?” Dan asks, voice thick and quavering._ **

**_“_ ** **Arin.** **_Your precious fucking roommate.”_ **

**_Dan yanks open the bedroom door with tears in his eyes. He doesn't expect Liam to follow him and keep yelling at him as he grabs his keys and yanks open the front door. “Please stop,” he says quietly, not trusting his voice to go any louder without it cracking and him dissolving into tears._ **

**_He can’t get his car turned on fast enough, and he peals out of the driveway. He knows he’s driving too fast and he can’t really see through the tears, and he pulls over in an empty parking lot of a business that had closed a few hours ago. In a feat that he didn’t think he was capable of, he manages to hold in the sobs until after he safely parks and turns off his car._ **

**_Waves of nausea roll through his stomach and he nearly gags. He doesn’t want to throw up because there’s nothing in his stomach, and as he cries, he bites down on his forearm to suppress his gag reflex._ **

**_It’s almost completely dark out by the time the tears stop, and he finally releases his hold on his arm. It’s bruised a mottled purple and blue, and Dan feels like he’s been socked in the jaw. He goes through the entire pack of kleenex he has in his glove compartment before he heads home._ **

**_Walking through the door is hard, and even though he wants these clothes off, he also can’t bring himself to even try right now. As he passes through the house, he grabs his thermal blanket and hat off of the couch and flings them over his arm before he fills the keurig with water and sets upon making a cup of tea._ **

**_He puts an ice cube into the cup and lets it melt before putting in a bag of jasmine tea and heading out onto the porch. He wraps the blanket around himself, using his inability to stay warm as ample excuse as to why his arm is covered._ **

**_Less than a minute later, the patio door is opening and Arin is stepping out onto the porch.]_ **

 

Dan finally looks over at Arin, and upon seeing the distress on Arin’s face, he puts one hand on his knee. “No, no, nothing like that,” he assures him, and Arin relaxes. “He just… said some stuff that was really uncalled for and told me not to call him again.”

Arin pulls Dan in, and Dan immediately rests his head on Arin’s broad shoulder. “I’m sorry he was a dick to you.” He hadn’t liked Liam from the get-go, and he’s  _ pretty  _ sure that it didn’t all have to do with the fact that he was dating Dan.

They sit outside on the swing until Dan’s tea is gone and the sun is completely gone from the sky.

  
  


#  Friday, MAY 27, 2011

 

Arin carries a woozy Dan in from the back porch. He’d collapsed from heat exhaustion. Carefully, Arin sets Dan down in a sitting position, and wrestles his sweatshirt over his head despite the protests. He turns on the living room fan and dashes into the kitchen to grab the ice pack, a towel, and a wet washcloth. He wraps the icepack in the towel and puts it against the back of Dan’s neck, and carefully lays the washcloth across his forehead.

Only when he’s sitting down in the chair next to the couch does he notice the giant fucking bruise on the side of Dan’s forearm. It takes a moment for him to realize that there are teeth marks still indented into the skin.  _ Jesus Christ _ . Dan refuses to look at him, instead staring straight ahead at the television, which isn’t even on.

Arin gets back up and fills a ziplock baggie with ice and wraps it in a towel. This time, Arin sits down on the couch and wraps his arm around Dan’s shoulders and pulls him in until he’s using Arin’s bicep as a pillow. Arin’s touch on his arm is soft as he cradles it and puts the bag of ice onto the bruise. Dan gasps when the ice touches his arm. It’s fucking  _ cold _ , not to mention sore as hell.

“What happened, Danny?” Arin’s voice is quiet.

“It’s nothing,” Dan says quickly. It is so completely obvious that it’s not ‘nothing’ that it’s like there’s a goddamn neon sign flashing above it.

“Dan,” is all Arin says, in the subtle tone that tells Dan that he doesn’t believe him, and he’s going to wait until Dan tells him the truth. It’s the tone Arin responds with when he asks a very clearly un-okay Dan what’s wrong and he answers with “I’m fine.”

He manages to hold the fortress for a minute and a half before he quietly admits that it’s his own teeth marks. It makes Arin feel a smidgen better because that means someone  _ else _ didn’t do that, but it also makes him feel way more than a smidgen worse because Dan had  _ bitten himself. _

“Why?”

“Don’t,” Dan warns, voice small.

Arin would normally do as Dan asked and let it go, but Dan is hurt. The only time he disobeys boundaries is if someone is unsafe. “Danny,” Arin asks again, “what happened?”

His tone is angry as he speaks and it’s tinged with tears. “He had some trouble remembering what the word ‘no’ meant.” 

Arin’s stomach fills with ice. “Did—did he—” His mouth refuses to form the next word.

“No.” He sniffles loudly and wipes at his nose with his free hand. “He just groped me and called me a bunch of names. I’m overreacting and being stupid.”

Arin turns to face Dan and he cradles his jaw in his hands. “Look at me, Danny.” His eyes resolutely remain looking down. “Leigh.” That gets his attention, and his eyes snap up to Arin’s. They’re shiny with tears again. “You are  _ not _ overreacting. There is no  _ he just _ . He didn’t respect your boundaries.”

“But I led him on, I—”

“I don’t care if you had his dick in your mouth half a second before you said stop. You said no. No means fucking no.” He’s trying really hard to not cry himself. He’s going to fucking  _ kill _ Liam. He doesn't know how and he doesn’t know when, but he will, goddammit. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Danny.”

That’s all it takes for the weak dam that Dan has erected to crumble completely and he buries his face into Arin’s chest with a wrenching sob. Arin sits back against the arm of the couch and pulls Dan into his lap. He’s never in his life heard someone sound so  _ hurt _ before when crying. Arin presses his face against Dan’s neck when his own tears start. 

He doesn’t really know what Dan needs from him right now, but he’ll try to be whatever it may be.

 

#  Wednesday, June 15, 2011

  
  


Dan is feeling a sense of deja vu to the umpteenth degree when he again finds himself sandwiched between two vending machines in the waiting room of a hospital crying over someone he loves having a baby.

He has his face buried in his knees and his arms covering his head, and that’s how Arin finds him a couple of minutes later. Instead of pulling him to his feet, Arin sits down in front of the little space with Dan. He understands that Dan just needs to be talked to right now. They’d talked before about how he’d reacted and felt when his sister had had her son. Arin’s not entirely surprised it’s happened again.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I watched an auto-parts store burn down with Tom Kenny?” Arin muses, looking up at the ceiling. This gets a sharp bark of laugh out of Dan, who finally looks up at him. His face is red and wet and he’s still crying, but he still asks what the fuck Arin is talking about. “Yeah, dude! I saw this giant pillar of smoke and was like ‘what the fuck is going on’ and after I got there fuckin’ Tom Kenny showed up. We bonded over the death of a business.”

Dan snorts and it sounds highly unpleasant. He wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. The tears have thankfully stopped, but he still looks like hell. “You bonded over a fucking snuff film,” Dan corrects, sounding congested. Arin laughs and digs the travel kleenex out of his pocket. He’d crammed one in there when they’d got the call that Suzy was almost through labor. “Thank you.”

Dan blows his nose enough that he winces from the kleenex rubbing against his skin, but finally he’s ready to go back to the main waiting area where their friends were waiting. He reaches his arms up and makes grabby motions. Arin rolls his eyes but pulls Dan to his feet anyway.

It takes another hour and a half before everyone gets to meet Violet Jean Kramer. Arin and Dan let the others go first, because Dan is trying not to cry. He feels a bit better when he sees Ross wiping tears from his face when he and Holly exit Suzy's room. 

“Hi,” Suzy says softly, looking up at them as they enter. She looks absolutely exhausted, but she looks  _ so  _ happy. She's cradling Violet in her arms, and she's looking down at her like she's holding the most beautiful thing the universe ever created. Barry is sitting in the armchair next to the bed looking happy and thoroughly cried out. 

“Heya, Scuze.” Dan approaches the bed and softly kisses Suzy's forehead. Wordlessly, Suzy lifts her arms, offering to let Dan hold the baby. He happily takes her, hushing her quiet noise of complaint as she's shifted. “Hi, there, sweetheart,” he says softly, touching her nose lightly. She has Suzy's nose. “Welcome to the world.” Violet makes another noise of protest and wraps her tiny little hand around Dan’s index finger.

It’s good that Dan is so focused on the baby and Suzy is happily watching Dan as he bounces gently from foot to foot while he talks to Violet softly, telling her she’s beautiful and that he’s proud of her mommy, because Arin is standing at the end of Suzy’s bed having a motherfucking epiphany.

He’s sure that he looks like he’s about to pass out, which is only fair considering he  _ feels _ like he’s about to pass out. His stomach is fluttering wildly in his throat and it feels like his heart is about to fall out of his butt and he desperately wants to cling to Dan and never, ever let him go.

_ Well, shit. I’m in fucking love with him. _

 

#  Sunday, JULY 3, 2011

  
  


Arin stares down into the self-rocking bassinet in front of him. Violet is asleep, lulled by the gentle motion of the cradle. She’s so  _ small _ . Her wild tuft of dark hair that sticks up in every direction like she got blasted with a leaf blower and one of her fingers is practically stuck up her nose, but she’s peaceful. 

Dan leans against the doorjamb, watching Arin with an incredibly amused look on his face. He’s got a dishtowel in one hand. He’d been doing the dishes, wanting to ease the burden on Suzy and Barry a bit. “She’s not going to eat you, you know,” Dan says quietly. Arin continues staring.

“I know,” he responds without looking up. He  _ does _ know that she’s not going to eat him. That’s not what he’s worried about. “She’s just so tiny. I’m afraid I’m gonna break her.” He’s never been in charge of a  _ baby _ before, even if it’s only for like, six hours.

Dan shakes his head, amused. “Babies are a lot more resilient than you give them credit for, Ar. She’s not gonna break.” He twirls the checkered towel around for a moment. “Come on into the kitchen. You need to eat something.”

“Am I allowed to do that? Shouldn’t someone be watching her?” 

“She’s asleep, Arin. The reason babies sleep is so that parents can do menial tasks like take a piss and eat some soup and not go fucking insane. C’mon. I’ll make you a sandwich.” He retreats to the kitchen, and by the time he’s got the turkey and the lettuce out, Arin has decided that it’s alright to leave the baby in the other room and he’s settled at the island counter. Dan knows what Arin likes on his sandwiches—two slices of turkey, cheese, lettuce, another slice of turkey, pickles, and mayo—and he makes it diligently and slides it across the counter to his friend. Before Arin can ask, he grabs the bag of pretzels from the top of the fridge and pours some into a bowl for him, and fishes a can of La Croix from the drawer in the fridge.

Arin thanks him and takes a big bite of his lunch. Perfect, as always. He looks to Dan, who is slowly munching on a single pretzel, leaning against the counter on his elbows. “Aren’t you going to have lunch?”

“M’not really hungry,” he says, despite the fact that his stomach is gurgling quietly, continuing to nibble the pretzel. Arin stares at him, and he stares back. After a minute of much too intense eye contact, he sighs. “Fine.” Leave it to Arin to be able to bully him into eating without even  _ saying _ anything. He grabs a bagel and some cream cheese from the fridge and pops the bagel into the toaster oven. Arin smiles at him victoriously and takes another bite of his sandwich.

The past two months have been turbulent, to say the least. Dan had increased his therapy visits to two a week, and he’s had his medication upped to help with the anxiety. He’s jumpy all of the time and he panics whenever someone who isn’t Arin is behind him. He feels stupid and overdramatic and weak, and it’s wearing him down inside and out. Nothing  _ happened _ . There were so many people out there doing just fucking fine when they’ve been through worse, and here he is, a fucking basket case just because a guy grabbed his dick through his pants.

Dan doesn’t realize he’s pulling his hair until Arin is detangling his fingers from the mass of curls. He looks away sheepishly and rescues his bagel from the toaster oven. It’s a little crispy but it’ll do. They eat in silence for a while before Arin reaches across the counter and squeezes Dan’s hand where it rests against the granite.

“I love you,” he says, which makes Dan smile. He’s been reminding Dan of this a lot, and for such a small gesture, it helps tremendously.

“I love you, too, man,” Dan replies, squeezing Arin back.

There’s a tiny cry from the living room, and Arin jerks his hand out of Dan’s and turns toward the noise. Dan snorts. He’s like a goddamn dog that just saw a squirrel. He wipes the crumbs off of the counter and throws Arin’s plate away and grabs a small baby bottle from the fridge so that he can pop it into the bottle warmer. The tiny cry grows more verbose, and Arin looks at Dan, panicked. Dan grins at him. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Because you’re cute when you’re terrified of babies,” Dan answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. Arin blushes and swats Dan’s arm.

“I’m just inexperienced, okay!”

“Is that what they’re calling ‘pants-shittingly terrified’ these days?” He tests the warmth of the milk on the back of his hand, and once deeming it okay, he hands the bottle to Arin. “Go feed the spawn.”

Arin looks at the bottle like Dan has just told him to go disarm a fucking bomb. Dan groans, exasperated, and drags Arin to the living room where Violet is fussing loudly, waving her little pink fists angrily. “Is somebody hungry?” Dan asks, picking her up out of the bassinet after he stops the rocking motion. “Your uncle Arin is gonna give you a five star meal and your tummy will be all nice and full.”

Still scared shitless that he’s going to somehow manage to break the baby, Arin sits down on the couch and holds his arms in the proper position. Dan transfers the baby into his grasp and bumps the nipple of the bottle to Violet’s mouth. She latches on eagerly as Arin grabs hold of it. Quiet, happy noises come from the baby as she feeds, and she stares up at Arin with big, hazel eyes. Arin stares back, eyes just as full of wonder.

Dan has never seen anything cuter in his goddamn life.

 

#  Wednesday, AUGUST 17, 2011

  
  


There’s a distinct possibility that half of the views on Dinosaur Laser Fight are from him alone, but he can’t find the time to feel like a silly bitch about it because the video is  _ so good _ ! Arin had absolutely outdone himself on the animation, and the video had come out exactly like he, Brian, and Arin hoped. It sucks that Brian isn’t here for this—they’d started making it a tradition to go out for sushi every time they put up a new music video as a celebration on a job well done.

Instead of being in a sushi bar with his bandmate, however, Dan is eating a bowl of soup and watching his roommate dance wildly across their kitchen to his own band’s music. He’s nearly shot chicken and stars out of his nose once already, when Arin spun a  _ little _ too wildly and smacked face first into one of the open cupboards.

“Have you ever thought about going on ‘So You Think You Can Dance?” Dan asks, watching Arin shake his hips almost completely off-beat. He knows Arin is capable of rhythm, unlike Ross, who wouldn’t even be able to follow a metronome if it hypnotised him and told him that it had candy in its van.

“It wouldn’t be fair to the competition,” Arin points out. “I don’t want to crush anyone’s dreams.” He strikes a ridiculous pose against the fridge as the song ends before yanking the door open so he can grab a La Croix. “Then again, just seeing me shakin’ what my momma gave me is a dream come true.”

Dan leans forward and looks at Arin’s ass. “I mean, you’re not wrong,” he agrees. It  _ is _ a nice ass. “You’re right. It’s probably better to let them live their dreams rather than have reality thrust upon them by way of your fantastic tush.”

Arin winks at Dan and smacks his own butt lightly. “Don’t you know it.”

If he notices Dan’s flushed face, he doesn’t say anything.

  
  


#  Monday, OCTOBER 31, 2011

  
  


“Why did I let you talk me into thiIIIIS—OH, GOD!” Dan pulls his blanket up over his head as Arin jumps. They’re watching  _ Ringu _ which is probably the worst idea Dan has ever agreed to, and he’d fucking wrestled an  _ alligator _ while high off his ass. 

He’s not completely sure how he managed to get roped into this. One minute he was telling Arin that under no fucking circumstances was he going to watch horror movies with him, and yet here he is, seconds away from shitting his pants in terror. He tells himself that it’s not that scary, that it’s just some girl in makeup, but when he dares a peek and sees Sadako crawling out of the television, he clings to Arin like a koala bear and buries his face in his shoulder. “Oh, come on, it’s not that scar—AHHH!”

Arin tugs the blanket over both of their heads, plunging them into darkness. The sound of the movie is muffled, and Dan can hear Arin breathing and he can feel it against his face. It smells like popcorn. There’s a weird tension building up between them, and in an attempt to break it, Dan says, “So… do you come here often?” and Arin loses it, pulling the blanket from off of their heads. His laughter sets Dan’s off, and they cackle like idiots until the credits start to roll up the screen.

Dan excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and he has to reach into the bathroom and turn the light on before he goes in because for all he fucking knows, Sadako is chillin’ in the mirror waiting to suck out his soul or some shit. He’s a certified puss and he  _ knows _ it, which is why he has no goddamn idea why he agreed to watch horror movies with Arin. Arin’s quite the puss, too, but not anywhere near as bad as Dan is.

When he comes back, the popcorn and m&ms mixture has been refreshed, and the title screen to  _ Halloween _ is on the television. Dan looks blankly at the menu. “Oh, hell, no.”

“C’mon,” Arin needles, “are you a pussy?”

“Yes!” Dan exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “I am a puss through and through.” And yet he sits down next to Arin, practically in his lap, and burritos himself up in the blanket again and settles the popcorn bowl on his lap. “I’m going to kick your ass for this, just you wait.”

Arin rolls his eyes and presses play. “Whatever you say, Rocky.”

They make it through half of The Exorcist after they finish Halloween before Dan throws in the towel and makes Arin turn on cartoons. By the time they head to bed, Dan is paranoid as all fuck, positive that every little noise and shadow is coming to kill him. It’s only after he nearly falls out of bed at the sound of the air conditioner coming on that he decides Arin needs to suffer too, and he grabs one of his pillows and dashes to Arin’s room just down the hallway. He knocks and pokes his head in, finding Arin sitting halfway up, looking confused. “What’d you need?”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Dan asks, shy. He’s a grown man, dammit! He should be able to handle some horror movies. Arin sighs, but he flips back the covers on the opposite side, and Dan gratefully crawls in between the warm sheets. He turns away from Arin and clutches his pillow to his chest. “Thank you.”

“What the hell are you doing way over there?” Arin asks. He goes to grab hold of Dan to drag him across the bed, but he stops himself. “If you want to sleep over there, that’s okay, too.”

Dan presses his face into his pillow, flustered and appreciative that Arin realized that it might make Dan uncomfortable to just be grabbed. “I can get down with the snuggles.” Arin scoots a bit closer and tugs Dan in, closing the gap between them. He drapes his arm over Dan’s waist and slots one of his legs between Dan’s own.

“Much like you can get down with the sickness?”

Dan snorts and snuggles back against Arin, enjoying the incredible warmth that the younger man puts off. It’s actually kind of chilly out, and Dan’s been too cold all damn day. Now that he feels safe, he finally feels his body start to relax. He’s pretty sure Arin’s fallen asleep when the other man mumbles groggily.

“M’sorry I made you watch horror movies with me. I didn’t think they’d scare you that bad.”

“It was my own choice,” Dan points out. “And besides, I’m getting cuddles out of it, so I think it’s a win-win situation.”

Arin nuzzles his nose against the back of Danny’s neck, and the hair on his arms stands up. “Definitely a win-win.” He waits for Arin to say something else, but moments later Dan hears the quiet snores that indicate Arin’s fallen asleep. Dan drifts off not fifteen minutes later, listening to the sound of Arin’s breathing and feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his back.

 

#  Monday, DECEMBER 19, 2011

  
  


Arin flops face first over the back of the couch, leaving his legs sprawled out awkwardly behind him. Dan looks over at him before turning back to his book. Arin groans loudly, trying to get Dan’s attention. Danny lets him flounder for another minute before marking his spot and closing his book.

“I have the feeling you might want to talk about something,” Dan says cheekily. “Call it intuition.”

Arin flails a bit until he’s settled upside down on the couch, with his back flat on the cushions and his knees hooked over the back. He looks up at Dan. “My parents are going to visit my uncle for Christmas. He hadn’t planned on being off the military base for Christmas, but since he is, they figure they might as well go see him.” 

Dan watches the twinkling of their dorky Christmas tree. This year it has two new ornaments that they’d given each other when they’d put it up. Dan had gotten Arin a pewter Triforce ornament, and Arin had gotten him a janky ass glass stegosaurus that looks like it might need to see a doctor. He loves it.

Before he even finishes thinking that hey, maybe Arin could come home with him, he’s opening his mouth and blurting out the suggestion. He rubs the bridge of his nose, sighing. His mouth  _ really _ needs to stop overloading his brain around Arin. It’s going to get him in a shitload of trouble at some point. Arin is looking at him, bewildered.

“Wouldn’t… wouldn’t that be weird? I’ll be the only one there that isn’t Jewish, and thus the only one that celebrates Christmas.” He really doesn’t want to make Dan’s time with his family awkward. Dan however, dismisses this idea with a wave of his hand.

“We go out for Chinese on Christmas Eve, which is the best way to celebrate anything. You can meet my family!” Dan leans his head onto Arin’s knees and pokes at his stomach, causing Arin to squeak and bat away Dan’s hands. “Please?”

“Okay, okay, since you want me there  _ so _ much,” Arin says, as if it’s a terrible hardship. Dan sprawls across his torso, making Arin laugh when Dan nuzzles into his shoulder like a puppy.

“Thank you!”

 

#  Friday, DECEMBER 23, 2011

  
  


Arin’s not going to admit it, but he’s nervous as all hell when the plane touches down on the tarmac at the Newark airport. Dan had grabbed onto Arin’s hand in a deathgrip once they began to descend, and he has yet to let go. He turns to look at the older man, who looks a bit shaken up. “You okay?”

Dan nods tensely. “Yeah, yeah. I just  _ really _ hate takeoff and landing.”

The both of them wait until everyone seated behind them has filed down the aisle before they get up from their seats and grab their luggage from overhead. Thankfully they won’t have to go to the baggage claim. As they head down the aisle towards the exit, Dan takes Arin’s hand again.

Arin fully expects Dan to let go of him once they’re heading down the jet bridge, but he doesn’t. His arm feels like it’s fucking electrified, and he’s trying to keep up with whatever it is that Dan is saying, but he’s having a hard time because  _ holy shit Dan is holding my hand.  _ He realizes after a second that Dan’s been trying to get his attention. “Whatdja say?”

Dan purses his lips. “You’re really spacey today. Are you nervous?”

“Define nervous…”

“That would be a yes.” Dan leads them out of the jet bridge and into the terminal. “They’re going to love you, man. Honestly, there’s no way that they  _ can’t _ . You’re fucking magnificent, dude.” Arin’s face is starting to heat up and he makes a  _ pfft _ noise. “I’m serious!”

Outside, fat flurries are coming down from the grey sky, and Arin stares upward in amazement. He knows he saw snow in Vermont as a kid, but he doesn’t remember it. “Whoa,” he says breathlessly. Dan squeezes his hand, causing Arin to look away from the snowflakes and over to his friend. There’s already snow landing on his curls that are hanging out of his hat. 

“I forgot you’ve never seen snow before.” Dan smiles. Watching someone experience snow for the first time is always beautiful. It’s such an innocent and pure thing, seeing someone’s face light up at the sight of snowflakes floating down from the sky.

“It’s so pretty,” Arin murmurs, amazed as he looks back up into the sky.

Dan smiles. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees, but his gaze is still on Arin.

 

__ __ __

  
  


The front door to Dan’s parent’s house opens before they even make it onto the stoop, and Dan is being pulled into a hug by a woman that is very obviously his mother. He looks so much like her. “Debbie!” Dan cries, wrapping his mom in a tight hug. When he lets her go, she ushers them inside. The snow had picked up on the drive from the airport, and Arin stomps his shoes on the doormat, following Dan’s example. They both hop out of their wet shoes and take off their coats and hats, and sometime in the middle of all of this, Avi puts their suitcases by the stairs so that they don’t trip over them.

Dan gives his dad a big hug, too before turning around to Arin, who immediately feels put on the spot. “Avi, Debbie, this is my roommate and best friend Arin. He’s the guy that did the animation for Dinosaur Laser Fight!” Arin awkwardly waves his hand.

“Hi.”

Debbie  _ tsks _ and pulls him in for a hug, to which Arin makes a surprised noise, but he accepts it nonetheless. He looks at Dan overtop Debbie’s head, and Dan just grins and mouths ‘told you’. Avi shakes his hand firmly, and Arin can’t help but be a little intimidated, even though Dan has said that Avi’s gentle as a lamb.

“How was the flight?” Debbie asks, ushering the boys to sit down on the couch so that they can relax. She bustles into the kitchen, and Arin’s not entirely sure where Avi disappeared to.

“A little turbulent, but it was okay,” Dan answers, stretching out his legs. He’s about to put his feet on the coffee table when Debbie calls from the kitchen.

“Leigh Daniel, don’t you even think about putting your feet on my coffee table.” Dan blushes and instead crosses his legs underneath himself. Arin snorts and covers his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Debbie,” Dan calls back after nudging Arin in the ribs with his elbow. “I would never do such an uncivilized thing.” Debbie pops her head back through the doorway and looks at Arin.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with him,” she says. “He’s an ass.”

“Hey!” Dan gasps in mock offense. “I resent that!”

“She’s not wrong,” Arin points out, and he gets another elbow in his ribs. 

Debbie comes back into the living room with a cup of tea for Dan. “Would you like some tea, Arin?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Black, please.” He takes the mug from her when she offers it to him with a quiet thanks. Debbie settles in an armchair with her own mug of tea. “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Avidan.”

Dan snorts into his tea and Arin pinches his thigh.

“Call me Debbie, sweetheart,” she tells Arin. “And thank you.” She looks over at her son, who is trying to keep from laughing hysterically into his tea, and she rolls her eyes. She loves him but God, is he a child sometimes.

“Is Mom coming over today or is she waiting until tomorrow?” For a second, Arin forgets that Dan calls his grandma ‘mom’, and he’s supremely confused. Following the confusion, however, is more nervousness since he  _ really _ hopes that Dan’s grandma likes him. He knows how much Dan values her opinion.

While Dan catches up with his mom, Arin excuses himself to the restroom. On his way back, he pauses to examine the art that’s hung on the walls. There are a multitude of different types of paintings—famous ones that he recognizes, and ones that have Debbie’s signature in the bottom corner of the canvas, and a few that were very obviously done by one of her children. He jumps, startled when Dan comes out of fucking nowhere.

“Hey there,” he says. He’s wearing a soft smile and he’s still holding his tea mug. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.”

“Nah, just admiring the art.” He glances back to Debbie’s painting of flowers. “Your mom is a really good painter.”

Dan sips from his tea and sighs. “Yeah, she is. She hasn’t painted in years, though. She used to paint all the time, but then life and shit got in the way, you know?” The sadness in Dan’s voice surprises Arin. They’re silent for a moment before Dan points to the stegosaurus painting. It’s in a multitude of blues, and while the anatomy is a little bit off, it still looks really, really good. “This is her favorite painting. I won an art contest for PBS when I was ten with it, and like, we did an interview and everything.”

“I didn’t know you could draw,” Arin says.

Dan chuckles. “I can’t, dude. I managed to draw one non-stupid stegosaurus in my entire life. Anyhow, I thought that taking credit for something was like, bragging or something, and so when they asked how I came up with it I blurted that I copied it out of a book.”

Arin stares at Dan in disbelief before it catches up with him and he starts laughing, and after a second Dan joins in too. “You’re such a twit.”

“At least I’m consistent.”

They head back into the living room, where Debbie is crocheting what might be a potholder. Arin sits down on the couch and Dan pats his shoulder and lets him know he’s going to go find his dad, and he leaves Arin alone with his mom.

He watches Debbie crochet, fascinated. He’s never really understood how to do it, and it still blows his mind that the entire thing is just one long strand of looped yarn. Debbie realizes he’s watching, and she smiles at him. He flushes, embarrassed at being caught staring. “Do you know how to crochet?” she asks. He shakes his head no. “Would you like to try?”

“That’s fine,” Arin tells her. “I don’t want to mess up your thing.”

“Oh, nonsense,” she assures him, and she comes to sit next to him. She puts the hook through one of the loops and wraps the yarn around it before pulling it through the hole and then repeating it. She passes it to him. “You try.”

He fumbles twice and drops the stitch once, but eventually he manages to crochet a loop, and he smiles wide. “I did it!” Debbie laughs, and it sounds a lot like Dan’s. She pats his shoulder and moves back to her armchair, and she grabs a ball of yarn and another crochet hook from a basket on the floor that Arin hadn’t noticed until now.

Needless to say, he isn’t doing incredible craftsmanship as he crochets, but he’s managing to do it and that’s what matters. The only sound in the room is coming from the TV, and Arin can hear the murmured voices of Dan and his dad somewhere down the hallway.

“You’re a really good painter,” Arin tells Debbie, who looks up at Arin, mildly surprised. “I was looking at the art in the hallway,” he explains. “Dan said that you haven’t painted in a long time.”

She nods. “I painted a lot when I was younger, and then I had Dan, and there wasn’t really time to just sit down and paint for seven hours,” she explains. Arin definitely understands that. He hasn’t done traditional painting in a long time. Not since he was with Suzy. “I don’t really know why I haven’t picked it back up. Just never got around to it, I guess.”

Arin’s hand is starting to cramp, so he hands the janky-ass crochet mess he’s created back to Debbie. “I haven’t painted for a long time, either. I haven’t even done traditional  _ drawing _ in a long time. All I really do is animation right now, since animation is really demanding.” He sighs. “I miss just sitting down with a palette and just  _ painting _ .”

“Maybe you should set aside some time for that,” Debbie suggests.

“I will if you will,” Arin counters, and Debbie smiles at him. Dan  _ definitely _ has her smile, through and through. She reaches out her hand for Arin to shake.

“Deal.”

 

__ __ __

  
  


Avi waits to strike until dinner, when Arin has absolutely no chance of escaping. The conversation has been easy until now, with them trading stories about what they’ve been up to and how Dana and Nash are doing.

“So, eh, Arin,” Avi begins, and he pronounces Arin like  _ Ah-reen _ , “you are an animator?”

“Yes, sir,” Arin answers, and Dan splutters into his spaghetti. Arin kicks him underneath the table.

“I see.”  _ Uh oh _ . “How does that fare as a business?”

“Avi,” Dan says, a hint of warning in his voice. His dad isn’t  _ against _ being an artist as a living, but he’s a businessman, and his focus is more on being financially stable. It’s been a topic of contention between Dan and his dad for years.

“It’s fine,” Arin assures Dan, who covers his face with a groan. He turns back to Avi, who is waiting patiently. “It does pretty well, actually. I helped buy a house and I bought a car with what I earn, if that helps.” He gets it—Avi wants to make sure that Dan is living with someone who is financially stable.

“That is good to know,” Avi says, nodding. “It is reassuring to know that Dan is in capable hands.” Dan’s face is turning red because he  _ knows _ exactly what’s coming. Avi is King of Misunderstanding Things and interpreting them wrong, and Dan is ready to die inside. “It is good that you have someone like Arin, Dan. He seems to be good for you.”

Debbie stifles her laughter into her napkin and tries to cover it with a cough, and Dan groans loudly again into his hands, praying to every God he can that a meteor crashes into the house and kills them all instantly. It takes a moment for Arin to realize what Avi is getting at, and when he does, he chokes on the sip of water he’s just taken.

“O-oh, oh no, we—we’re not together,” Arin says. His cheeks are bright pink and he can feel it creeping up to the tips of his ears. Avi looks between his son and Arin and furrows his brow.

“Are you sure?”

“ _ Vey is mir _ ,” Dan mumbles to himself. What had he done to deserve this? He’d bar mitzvahed, he’d gone to temple. Why is he being punished? His mom laughs again and he turns to glare at her, which only makes her laugh harder.

Arin takes a big bite of his spaghetti so that he doesn't have to try and come up with something to say. Avi turns to Debbie. “Have I eh, interpolated wrong?”

Debbie pats Avi’s arm. “Interpret,” she corrects, “and yes, honey, you have.”

Avi looks mildly embarrassed. “Eh, oops.”

After dinner, Arin and Dan offer to clean up and do the dishes. They clear the table in silence, and that same weird tension, the one that feels like they’re closing in on something that would be best left alone, has settled between them. It's not until they're side by side doing the dishes that Dan speaks. 

“I'm sorry my dad is… well, special.” Arin takes the warm, soapy plate and rinses it and places it in the drying rack. Dan bumps his head against Arin's shoulder affectionately. Arin ruffles Dan's hair, and the older man squeals. “Nooo! Your hand is wet.”

“I can always make it wetter,” Arin says deviously, and Dan glares at him. 

“Don't you dare.”

Arin dips his hand in the dishwater and flicks it at Dan who splutters. “You little shit.” He wipes his wet hand across Arin's face. Arin squeals and wipes his face off with the dish towel. He holds out a glass for Arin to take. “Behave yourself or I'll make you sleep outside.”

“Yes, sir,” Arin says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do I get punished if I misbehave?”

Dan laughs in that way he does when Arin makes him flustered, and he headbutts Arin again. “Oh my God, stop,” he says, giggling. 

They finish the rest of the dishes without destroying the kitchen, and Arin counts it as a success. 

There's a headache making a nest behind his eyes, so Arin turns in early. He and Dan are sharing a bed, and thankfully it's a king size so that they at least fit into the damn thing. Debbie had apologized profusely, but Arin had assured her it wasn't a problem. 

Dan's old room still has blue walls, and there are drawings and posters of dinosaurs and unicorns still hung up, most of them lopsided and torn on the edges. A collection of stegosauruses stands on the bookshelf in the corner, along with multiple clay figurines that Dan made in elementary school. A picture of Dan and Dana all dressed up for Halloween sits on the dresser. 

Arin brushes his teeth, pops an Advil, and puts on his pajamas, and as he's settling down, Debbie pokes her head through the door. 

“If you need anything, we're down in the living room. Goodnight, honey.” Her voice is soft and Arin suddenly misses his mom. She closes the door, leaving Arin in the dimly lit room. There's a stegosaurus nightlight plugged in near the bed, and hopefully that means Arin won't trip over something if he has to pee in the middle of the night. 

It's nice, being in New Jersey with Dan and getting to meet his family. Arin needs to see when the next time his parents can visit, because he really wants Dan to meet them. He talks about Dan enough to his mom that she probably feels like she knows him already. He's still nervous about meeting Dan's grandma and his sister tomorrow, but he's trying not to focus on it. 

The opening of the bedroom door startles Arin out of the light sleep he'd been in. He hears a sniffle and he sits up to find Dan rifling through his bag for his toiletries and pajamas. When he notices Arin's awake, he wipes his eyes.

“Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you.”

“What's wrong?” 

Dan shakes his head and stands up. His knees crack loudly. “I'll be right back.”

Arin is still sitting there waiting when Dan comes back. He's trying really hard to not cry, but it's not working so well. Dan climbs under the covers and Arin immediately pulls him close. Dan buries his face in Arin's chest and lets the floodgates go. It's nothing they haven't been through before, but it's still painful for Arin to listen to Dan cry. 

When the tears finally subside, Arin asks again what's wrong. 

“It's stupid,” he mumbles, and even in the dim room he can see the look Arin is giving him. It very clearly says ‘ _ try me _ ’. “Law and Order: SVU came on.” 

Ah. 

“That's not stupid,” Arin assures him. He brushes his fingers through Dan's hair, mindful of any knots or tangles there might be. He's found it's one of the fastest ways to calm Dan down and get him to go to sleep. “You don't get to pick what triggers you, man.”

“I know that, but I still feel stupid.” He's been doing better lately. Therapy has been helping a lot. He can handle people standing behind him again and he isn't as jumpy in public anymore. There are some things (like Law and Order: SVU and anything depicting sexual assault) that still set him off, but he's handling it much better than he has been. 

“I don't say this enough,” Arin begins, voice quiet and soft with sleepiness, “but I'm really fucking proud of you, Danny.” 

He doesn't know what to say, so he just snuggles closer and wraps his arm around Arin's waist. “Thank you, Big Cat.” The petting of his hair is starting to work its magic, and he can feel the fingers of sleep tickling at him.

He drifts off to the feeling of gentle fingers in his hair and lips on his forehead. 

 

#  Saturday, DECEMBER 24, 2011

  
  


Dana leans against the doorjamb and observes the sight in front of her. Debbie had sent her upstairs to wake Dan and Arin for breakfast, and she'd opened the bedroom door to find Dan snuggled against Arin, head tucked under the larger man's chin. They're cute as hell, and her brother is going to have some explaining to do later. She knocks on the door, and Dan rolls away from Arin and sits up, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Mom made breakfast and if you two snuggle buddies want some, you better get your asses downstairs,” she tells them and heads back down to the kitchen. She hears Dan shout “hi to you, too” after her. 

Dan looks over at Arin who seems to be just as awake as he is, which is to say, not very. “So,” he says, voice crackly with sleep, “that's my sister.”

The sleepy pair stumbles down the stairs five minutes later, bleary eyed and yawning. Dan’s hair is going in every direction other than the one it’s supposed to be, and Arin’s hair is rumpled and sticking up on one side. Debbie presses a cup of coffee into Dan’s hands and a cup of tea into Arin’s and sits them both down at the table. Dana sips her own coffee and smiles at Dan from her seat at the island counter. Dan sticks his tongue out at her.

“I made French toast,” Debbie says, much too cheerful for nine in the morning. Dan mumbles something about his meds and he trudges back up the stairs to grab his pill keeper. He empties the Saturday slot into his hand and closes the lid and puts the container on top of the microwave. He knocks the pills back with his coffee and kisses his mom on the cheek.

“Thank you, Doobles,” he says, still groggy as hell. He and Arin both go through the motions of buttering and syruping their food mechanically.

“Wow, you two sure are rays of sunshine,” Dana comments, and Dan flips her the bird, which gets him a whack across the back of the head from his mom. She at least waits until Arin looks like he’s semi-functioning before she comes over to shake his hand and introduce herself.

“M’Arin,” he says. His voice is still clunky, and he clears his throat a few times. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Danny talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, does he now?” Dana ruffles Dan’s hair and he squawks indignantly.

Dan’s rebuttal is cut off by the sound of tiny feet pattering across the kitchen tile and a happy screech. A second later, his nephew Nash has crashed into his legs. Dan grins down at him and scoots his chair back so he can plop the little goober onto his lap. “Hey, buddy!” Dan kisses the top of Nash’s head. He turns two in a couple of weeks, and it’s been a long time since he’s seen the kid. Dana sends him videos and pictures every week, but it’s not really the same.

“Unca Dan!” Nash hugs Dan tight, and then he notices Arin. He stares at him with big, brown eyes. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Arin says back. “What’s your name?”

“Nash.”

“That’s an awesome name!” Arin tells him, and Nash beams at him. Dan grins at him, happy that he’s apparently much more comfortable with a two year old than he is with a newborn.

“What do we say?” Dana asks her son.

“Thank you!” He reaches for his mom and she picks him up and sits him on her hip, and almost immediately starts blabbering the way toddlers do. Dan turns to Arin. 

“Did you want to take a shower this morning?” He generally takes a shower in the morning since he sweats in his sleep, and he feels like he’s wearing the airplane still, so he nods. Dan leads him upstairs after depositing their dirty dishes in the sink. “The guest shower is a little temperamental.” Arin grabs a pair of sweats and a tshirt from his bag and follows Dan into the bathroom and he watches as Dan shows him how to start the shower without it spitting hot water all over his head as he does so. He leaves Arin to his shower with a cheerful “Don’t drown!” before returning to their shared room so he can get stuff for his own shower.

Dan also grabs a pair of sweats (one of the three pairs he owns) from his bag and a long-sleeved thermal shirt that has a dinosaur on it with the word “Dannysaur” underneath. Arin had gotten it for him. His hair is clean, so he just needs to wash the airplane off of his body. His parents don’t mind him using their shower, so he ducks in for a quick rinse, and by the time he’s done, Arin is sitting on their shared bed brushing out his hair. Danny sits down behind him and takes the comb from Arin, who isn’t expecting it. He definitely isn’t going to complain, though.

“You doing okay?” asks Dan, beginning to comb through Arin’s hair carefully to avoid pulling it. “I know it’s probably a little overwhelming to basically meet all of my family at once.”

Arin shrugs. “I’m just nervous to meet your grandma,” he admits. He can’t see it, but behind him, Dan frowns.

“Why?”

Arin knows that Dan can see that the tips of his ears are turning red. “Because she’s really important to you and I really want her to like me.” His voice is quiet and tinged with embarrassment. Dan puts down the comb and wraps his arms around Arin and rests his head against Arin’s back. His stomach feels like it’s taken a rocketship to the fucking moon.

“She’ll love you,” Dan assures. “There’s no way she couldn’t, honestly. She and I have very similar taste, and  _ I _ love you, so logic only dictates—”

“Oh, my God, Dan, shut up,” Arin laughs. Dan lets him go and pats his shoulder and gets off of the bed.

When they come back downstairs, Dana looks between them with interest. There’s something going on there, but she’s not entirely sure  _ what _ yet. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if Dan wasn’t aware of it at all. Her brother isn’t really known for being the most perceptive person on the planet.

Arin and Dan sit down on the floor with Nash and toss one of his squishy balls back and forth between themselves. Dan highfives Nash when he throws it a little too high and beans Arin directly in the face with it. When Nash isn’t paying attention, Arin pinches Dan’s arm. Dan goes to whack Arin back, and Dana fixes them both with The Mom Look™. “Boys,” she warns.

“Sorry,” they both say, sheepish, but they’re grinning at each other. She sighs. It’s going to be a long day.

  
  


__ __ __

  
  
  


Because there are so many of them, Debbie, Dan, and Arin take Avi’s Nissan and Avi, Nash, and Dana take Dana’s Volvo. They're picking up Dan’s grandma on the way to the Chinese place, and Dan is practically out of the car by the time Deb stops parks in the driveway. He nearly biffs it on a small patch of ice but he rights himself with a loud shout of “shitfuck” and then shoots Arin and his mom a thumbs up. 

“It's like keeping kittens in a box,” Debbie says fondly. She turns to look at Arin. “I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate everything you've done for Dan these past few years. It sucks knowing your baby is suffering and you can't do anything,  _ and  _ you're on the other side of the country to boot.”

“I'll always be there for him,” Arin says. He says it like he can't believe that there could even be another option than that. Debbie squeezes his hand. 

“I know.”

_ She knows _ . Arin can tell by the look in her eyes and the way she says those two words that she knows he's in love with her son.  _ She’s not judging you. _

Their moment is halted by Dan opening the passenger side door for his grandmother. He's practically bouncing in place. Once she's fully in the car, he closes the door and climbs into the back with Arin. 

“Mom, this is Arin.”  _ That's going to get really damn confusing. _

She turns in her seat to face Arin. “It's nice to meet you, honey. You can call me Ruth. I'll hug you when we get to the restaurant and don't even think of trying to get out of it.” Arin stares at her for a moment before breaking into a huge grin. 

“You got it, ma’am.”

Ruth looks to Dan. “Cute  _ and  _ polite. Keep him.” He looks mortified, and Arin and Debbie burst into laughter. 

“Not you too!”

 

__ __ __

  
  
  


Dan manages to dodge his sister for much longer than he had hoped, but she finally corners him in the kitchen when he gets up to fill his and Arin's glasses. She startles the hell out of him by slinging her arm over his shoulder awkwardly. Dana is tall, but not  _ Dan  _ tall. 

“Jesus, Dana,” he mutters, grabbing paper towels to mop up the iced tea he had just bathed the counter in. “Warning is appreciated.”

“If I'd warned you you would have run away like a pussy like you've been doing all day,” she points out. 

_ Well, she's not wrong.  _

Dan sighs, defeated. “I know what you're gonna ask and  _ no _ , we're not dating.”

“Oh, I know you're not dating.” Dan looks at his sister, confused. 

“Then what…?”

“Just wanted to know if you'd realized yet that you  _ want  _ to be dating him.” She smiles in that irritating way she does when she knows she's right, and Dan scowls. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Dan says and properly refills the iced tea glasses. “I'm not ready for a relationship right now.” That part, at least, is true. 

He doesn't think Arin would do  _ that _ , but then again, he didn't think Liam would either. This isn't something he wants to think about right now, and he shakes his head like an etch-a-sketch, hoping that it'll erase that train of thought. 

“Well, when you are ready,” Dana says as she hugs Dan from behind, “that man looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars yourself.” Dan relaxes and turns in her grasp so he can give her a proper hug. She smells like she always does, like freesia and jasmine and home. 

He doesn't say anything, because what are you supposed to say to that?  _ I'd hang the stars and moon for him if he asked _ ? No. 

Even if it is relatively true.

 


	4. III - I See My Future In An Instant

#  CHAPTER 3 - There’s No Rhyme Or Reason

#  Friday, JANUARY 6, 2012

 

Arin is, yet again, awoken on the morning of his birthday much like he was the previous year. Dan nearly kicks in his fucking door with a cry of, “Happy birthday, you sexy motherfucker!”, his hands full with a tray that contains their breakfast on it. Arin sits up and glares.

“Do you have something against my bedroom door on this day in particular?” Next year Dan’s probably going to kick the thing off its goddamn hinges. He peels off his Breathe-Right strip with a grimace and tosses it into the trashcan beside his bed. He holds out his hands to take the tray from Dan, who grins and happily hands it over. He’s wearing his old Giants pajama pants, stegosaurus socks, and a shirt that is more hole than fabric. His Giants beanie is crammed on over his curls, which are getting long.

Dan settles on the bed across from Arin. “You’ve found me out. I use your birthday as an excuse to take out all of my repressed angst and anger on your bedroom door.”

“What did my bedroom door ever do to you?” Arin asks, putting the tray flat on the bed between them. Much like last year, there are pancakes and bacon, which doesn’t look burnt this time, fruit, and toast, and a bottle of Sunny D for both of them. Arin opens his bottle and takes a swig.

“Are you sure your D is sunny enough this morning?” Dan asks, and Arin nearly shoots the orange juice out of his nose. Dan cackles and passes Arin a napkin. “Sorry, sorry! I thought you’d swallowed.”

When he can breathe again, Arin fixes Dan with a Look™. “Oh, trust me, you’ll know when I’ve swallowed.”

Dan giggles nervously and shoves a grape into his mouth. “Shut up, dude.”

“Or what?” Arin challenges.

“Or I’ll take your breakfast and eat it myself.” Arin gasps in mock outrage.

“You wouldn’t dare take my only source of sustenance from me!” Dan snorts loudly as he laughs and he smacks Arin’s leg underneath the covers.

“Shut up and eat your fucking breakfast.”

The pancakes are even better than the ones he got last year, and he eats them in record time. He’s very careful when he takes a bite of the bacon, much to Dan’s chagrin. Arin looks amazed when his teeth survive. “Oh my God, it’s actually edible this time!”

“Arin, I swear to God, if you keep sassing me over my cooking skills you’re not getting your birthday present.” Dan pokes Arin with his fork when he reaches for one of the grapes in the bowl, which, of course, devolves into them trying to stab each other with flatware.

After they finish breakfast, Dan takes the tray back to the kitchen. Arin ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth and take a much needed piss. Dan is bouncing around outside of the bathroom door when he opens it, and he barrels inside and pushes Arin out. Arin rolls his eyes and shuffles out to the living room. There’s a cup of hot chocolate waiting for him on the coffee table. A lovely pulse of warmth spreads through his chest at the sight of it. It even has mini marshmallows in it.

Dan enters the living room with a shittily wrapped box that is topped with a big, sparkly pink bow. Arin takes it from him, grinning all the while. Dan sits down against the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t even,” he says.

“So I see your wrapping skills have vastly improved,” Arin quips, and Dan nudges him with his foot. “At this rate you’ll be a certified expert by my eight hundredth birthday.” Dan then pinches him with his toes, causing Arin to jump. “Okay, I deserved that.”

He peels off the bow and plops it on top of his head, much to Dan’s enjoyment. It doesn’t take much to divest the box of its paper. He opens the top of it and  _ immediately _ he’s ready to cry. Inside is a set of Winsor & Newton acrylic paints, two sets of brushes, a paint palette, and a couple of small canvases. The box is set aside onto the coffee table for the moment. He covers his mouth with his hand and looks up at Dan through blurry eyes.

“I promise I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he hastily explains. “I was coming down the hall when you said that you really missed painting, and I just…” Nervously, he tugs at his hair. “Did I fuck up?”

Arin can’t help it—he starts laughing, and it’s that ugly crying laughter that he really hates to do, but he can’t stop it right now. Dan looks a little frightened at Arin’s reaction, but it morphs into surprise when Arin pulls him into a tight hug. “Thank you,” Arin mumbles through his tears, and he can feel Dan’s entire body relax, and the older man’s arms tighten around him, returning the hug.

“You’re gonna make me cry too, Ar,” Dan tells him, giggling quietly. “You’re welcome. I just wanna see you happy. You do so much to make sure that my crazy ass is happy and functioning without wanting anything in return,” Dan says, and his voice begins to waver, “and I wanna make you happy, too.” Arin pulls him in closer until he’s practically on Arin’s lap.

“Dan, you have no idea how happy you make me on a daily basis,” Arin explains. Already, he knows his mouth is going to overload his brain and he’s going to say something he shouldn’t, but he really doesn’t have the willpower to shut it down right now. “You being happy  _ makes _ me happy. Everything you fucking do brings me happiness, man.” His brain is screaming  _ abort, abort!!!  _ but his mouth just keeps going. “As long as I’ve got you in my life I’ll be happy.”  _ Ah, shit. _

Dan buries his face into Arin’s shoulder and tightens his hold on Arin’s body. It’s the nicest thing that anyone has  _ ever _ said to him before. He’s never been told that his mere presence and fucking  _ existence _ makes someone happy (his mom doesn’t count because she’s his mom and he already knows that she loves him unconditionally). He scoots back off of Arin’s lap and looks his roommate in the eyes.

Both of them look like goddamn messes, with red, tear-streaked faces and goofy smiles. “You mean that?” Dan asks, voice small.

“Of course I mean it,” Arin says. “You’re my best friend, Danny. I’d be lost as hell without you.”

Dan tries to ignore the way his heart thumps wildly, and he slips his fingers between Arin’s and clasps their hands together tightly. “Then I’ll make sure not to let go.”

 

#  Wednesday, MARCH 14, 2012

 

“Dan, I’m not letting you use the hammer in the over-excited state you’re in. You’re going to put a hole in the fucking drywall and then  _ I’ll  _ have to fix it because I’m also not letting you near spackle.” Arin wrestles the hammer away from the older man, who is practically vibrating in happiness and excitement.

When Dan got home from work, Arin had covered his eyes and led him into his own bedroom where a cel from The Last Unicorn lay on his bed. Dan had  _ actually  _ screamed and then proceeded to climb Arin like a fucking koala bear. When he’d finally let go, he’d gone racing into the kitchen and come back with the hammer and drywall nails.

“Where do you want it hung?” Arin asks, sounding exasperated, but he has a big grin on his face. Dan’s excitement is absolutely adorable. He’s reminded of a five year old being told that they’re going to Disneyland for the first time.

Dan practically bounces around the room as he tries to figure out where he wants it hung. “Here!” There’s a spot near his framed Rush albums that’s perfect. Arin nudges him out of the way and knocks on the wall. “What the hell are you doing? Asking the wall people if it’s okay to destroy their home?”

“I’m checking for a stud, you walnut.”

Dan strikes a ridiculous pose and pouts out his lips. “There’s a stud right here, baby girl.”

Arin looks at him flatly, and raises the hammer. “Don’t tempt me, Daniel.”

“You can’t bludgeon the birthday boy to death with a hammer,” Dan tries. Arin just raises an eyebrow in response, and Dan takes a step back. “Knock away.”

Arin knocks in a few spots, double checking. Luckily, there’s a stud right where Dan wants the cel hung. He hands Dan the box of drywall nails and grabs one. He puts it against the wall and looks at Dan for confirmation. He nods, and Arin begins hammering it in. Once it’s in evenly, he hands Dan the hammer with explicit instructions to not wave it around and he grabs the cel frame and hangs it off the nail. He adjusts it a bit until it’s even. He knows that Dan will adjust it eight hundred more times until  _ he _ decides that it’s straight.

“There you go,” Arin says, standing back and observing his handiwork. He takes the hammer and nails back from Dan, still not fully trusting him with it. He returns them to the hardware drawer in the kitchen, and he jumps nearly a foot in the air when Dan hugs him from behind. “You should be very happy that I  _ just  _ put the hammer away, otherwise you would have a brand new dent in your head.”

“Are you saying I have an old dent in my head?” Dan asks, still clinging to Arin.

“You’re gonna have an old dent.”

“Arin, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make sense.”

Dan snorts loudly and changes the subject. When Arin moves toward the fridge to get a drink, Dan shuffles along behind him, as he’s still holding onto him like a child would to their father’s leg. “What time are we meeting everyone at Round One?”

Arin glances at the microwave to check the time. “We need to leave in like, twenty minutes.” He pops the top on his La Croix and takes a sip before he presses the cold can to Dan’s knuckles. It has the desired effect and Dan springs away from him with a shout. “Go get dressed in something that was created  _ before _ 1978.”

“Arin,  _ I  _ wasn’t even created before 1978,” Dan points out.

“Welp, guess you have to stay here then.”

Dan groans loudly, exasperated. “If you leave me here alone then I’ll attack all of the drywall with the hammer.”

Arin glares at Dan, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t test me, Arin,” Dan says, parroting Arin’s words from earlier. He squeaks when Arin pats his ass as he passes him on the way to his own bedroom.

“Shut up and get dressed, Dan.”

Dan opens his door with a grumble. “Bossy,” he mutters. His slight annoyance with Arin fades, however, when he looks at the beautiful animation cel that hangs on his wall. It’s from his favorite part of the movie—the very end when all of the unicorns come out of the sea. It makes him cry every goddamn time because it’s so beautiful. And now he gets to associate another wonderful thing with that part of the film.

_ Arin. _

 

#  Friday, JUNE 15, 2012

 

Everyone—meaning Barry, Suzy, Jon, Lisa, Ross, Holly, Arin, and Dan—has gathered at Holly and Ross’ house for Violet’s first birthday. It’s been a fun day, full of good food, Ross being attacked by First Officer Feathers, Violet having a  _ blast _ decimating wrapping paper and smearing frosting all over her face, and now everyone is settled around or in the pool, enjoying the weather and relaxing.

Suzy is laid out on one of the lounge chairs in the shade, sipping at her lemonade. It’s nice to just lay here and relax without worrying about what needs to be done and what Violet is doing. With a fond smile, she watches Dan and Violet in the pool. She’s in a pool floatie, and Dan is slowly pulling it around as he walks backwards through the water. Violet is squealing and splashing happily, and Dan is laughing with her, talking to her as they go.

The noise of someone sitting down in the chair next to her causes Suzy to look away from the adorable sight, and she sees Arin. He’s watching Dan and Violet with a heartwarming expression on his face. Suzy reaches out and squeezes his arm, and he looks over at her. She’s just as beautiful as the day Arin met her twelve years ago.

“He’s so good with kids,” Arin says. “He’d be an amazing dad.” He rests his chin on his hand.

“Do you know if he wants kids?” Suzy asks. Arin sighs.

“It came up in one of those ‘middle-of-the-night-talk-about-whateverthefuck’ conversations—you know, the ones where you talk about everything from parenting to nuclear war to the rise and fall of the Roman Empire—and he said he’d love to have kids someday.” Suzy just waits, knowing Arin well enough to know that there’s more he wants to say. Violet gives a particularly happy shriek from the pool, and she looks over to see that Dan has taken her out of her floatie and he’s dipping her into the water up to her waist and then raising her up above his head with a “Fly, my Vy!” every time. Arin clears his throat before he speaks again. His voice is quiet. “I’d love to have kids with him someday.”

Suzy squeezes his arm again. “Maybe it’ll happen, Ar. I  _ hope _ it happens someday. You two would be such good parents and any kid of yours would be fucking awesome.”

Arin smiles at her, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “Thanks, Suze.”

 

#  Wednesday, JULY 18, 2012

  
  


Dan is lying on the couch reading  _ Game of Thrones _ when the front door finally opens. It’s after eight at night, and it’s felt strange for him to be home alone. Arin is basically  _ always _ home, but today, he and Jon had finally posted the first episode of the YouTube channel they’d started, and they had done more recording today. They’re doing the recordings over at Suzy and Barry’s house, since Barry is doing the editing and a large portion of Arin’s collection of games is still in one of the spare rooms because they don’t have room for it here. 

Arin locks the door behind himself and slips off his flip flops and hangs his keys up on the hook by the door. He leans over the back of the couch and looks down at Dan, who’s wearing his glasses and looking  _ far more _ attractive than he has any goddamn right to. He finishes his sentence before sliding his bookmark in place and closing the novel. He looks up at Arin with a smile on his face.

“How’d it go?” he asks, muffling a yawn against the back of his hand. He knows first hand what the tension is like waiting for feedback on a YouTube video.

“We’ve gotten a ton of good feedback, man!” Arin says, excitement written all over his face. His eyes light up, and for a moment Dan has trouble catching his breath. 

“I'm proud of you, man,” Dan tells him. “I watched the episode when it went up. I don't know shit about Kirby but you guys were funny as hell! I told you people would like it.” Arin grins and rolls himself over the back of the couch, and Dan squeals. “Nooooo!”

Arin settles on top of Dan and rests his head on the older man’s chest. He can hear his heart thumping wildly. Dan sighs and puts his book on the coffee table so that he can wrap an arm around Arin. “Lift up for a moment,” Dan tells him, and Arin pushes himself up into his hands and knees. 

He makes a point of ignoring just how good Dan looks lying beneath him. Dan, oblivious to Arin's minor panic, arranges the pillow he'd been using a bit lower and he scoots until he's flat on his back. He sometimes gets sleep paralysis if he sleeps on his back, but right now it's a risk he's willing to take. Once he's settled, he pats his chest, signifying to Arin that it's okay to lay back down. 

Dan pulls the blanket off the back of the couch over them and slides his cold foot up the bottom of Arin's sweatpants to press against his shin. He grins when Arin yelps.

“Have you had your feet in ice? Holy shit, dude,” Arin grumbles. He shouts again when Dan's other foot joins its partner. “You're lucky I love you, or I'd chop off your damn feet.”

Dan laughs and runs his fingers through Arin's hair. “Sure you would, buddy.”

They lay there for a long time, saying nothing and watching as the shadows in the room elongate with the setting of the sun until the entire room is bathed in darkness. Arin realizes Dan has fallen asleep when his fingers still in his hair and his heartbeat slows down. He doesn't snore—it's more like a quiet buzzing noise, and it's fucking adorable. 

Before Arin drifts off, he murmurs, “I love you, Leigh,” into the stillness of the room. It's the first time he's said it out loud with  _ that _ particular meaning behind it, and it'll probably be the  _ only _ time he does, because it's safe to do so when Dan is dead asleep. He sighs and listens to the  _ th-thump th-thump  _ of Danny's heartbeat and lets it carry him off to sleep. 

  
  


#  Wednesday, OCTOBER 31, 2012

  
  


Dan is starting to wonder if he has some fucked up masochistic streak buried somewhere inside of himself, because there really is no other explanation for why he's doing this  _ again _ . Last year had been a nightmare—literally and figuratively—and yet here he is, curled up on the couch underneath blankets, pressed up against Arin and surrounded by popcorn because he'd flung the bowl in terror at a jump scare. 

They're watching  _ The Grudge  _ and Dan is regretting every choice he's made today that has led him to this exact moment. “Why the  _ fuck _ does the kid screech like a cat?” he shouts, eyes wide in terror. 

“You'll find out later,” Arin sing-songs, and Dan turns to glare at him. 

“I'm going to scissor kick you in the johnson,” Dan threatens. Arin snorts derisively and Dan lightly socks him in the shoulder. 

“You wouldn't. You like my johnson too much.”

“Wha—Arin, I've never seen your dick so I'm ambivalent about it and I have no qualms about scissor kicking a dick I'm ambivalent towards.”

“I could always just whip it out and let you make your decision from there,” Arin suggests with that big dumb grin on his face that makes Dan want to smack him. 

“This night is already horrific enough without you whipping out your schlong in the middle of the living room.” Arin gasps in mock offense.

“My dick is offended.”

Dan opens his mouth to retort, but it’s cut off by him screaming at the top of his lungs and climbing Arin like a tree and burying his face in his shoulder. He’s pressed all along Arin’s side, with one leg thrown across his waist and his arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Arin chuckles and Dan smacks his chest lightly. “Shut up, you big fuckstick.”

“Move back for a sec,” Arin tells Dan, who reluctantly lets go. On the screen, Kayako is making that creepy fucking clicking noise and Dan is resolutely  _ not _ looking. Arin lays down on his side and pulls Dan down to lay in front of him. Dan has the blanket up around his shoulders so that he can hide his face if need be.

“Are we seriously spooning while you traumatize me with j-horror movies?” Dan asks, incredulous.

“Would you rather me traumatize you with k-horror movies?”

“I would rather you just not traumatize me at all, but apparently that’s not an option.”

Arin wraps his arm around Dan’s waist and pulls him close, and Dan is thankful that he’s facing away from Arin because his cheeks are turning bright pink. Oddly enough, he  _ does _ feel less afraid now that he’s wrapped up in Arin’s arms. 

They make it through the end of  _ The Grudge  _ and partway through  _ The Grudge 2  _ before Dan turns over and buries his face in Arin’s chest. Arin puts on a documentary about space so that Dan doesn’t have to listen to the sounds of the movie anymore. Arin rubs his back, tracing his vertebrae.

“I’m sorry,” Dan mumbles into the fabric of Arin’s Zelda t-shirt. “I’m a big fuckin’ pussy and you can’t enjoy watching scary movies with me.”

Arin sighs. “I’m very much enjoying myself,” he says, and he’s definitely not lying. He’s snuggling Dan on the couch. What’s not to enjoy? “Part of your charm is that you’re a big ol’ puss when it comes to scary shit. It means I get to be your knight in shining armor.”

Dan weakly pinches his side, but he relaxes a bit. “Thanks,” he says softly. “‘M tired…”

“Do you want to go to bed?” Arin asks. He knows that he’s going to end up sleeping with Dan tonight to keep him from having nightmares. 

Dan shakes his head ‘no’. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

Arin smiles and softly kisses the top of Dan’s head. “We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

He half pays attention to the television as he rubs Dan’s back. It’s hard to concentrate on the amazingness that is Jupiter when he can feel the heat from Dan’s breath seeping into his shirt and bleeding into his skin. His arm is slightly cramping and his butt itches, but he wouldn’t move for anything short of a meteor blasting into him right now.

He’ll take the moments like this when he can get them.

 


	5. IV - I Think I Found My Way Home

#  CHAPTER FOUR - I Think I Found My Way Home

 

#  Sunday, JANUARY 6, 2013

  
  


The day before, when Arin had been over at Suzy and Barry’s doing recordings for Game Grumps, Dan had practically decimated the kitchen making rugelach. He’d accidentally strung flour across the room and he’d spilled sugar all over the counter, but after five hours of working, he’d managed to make a delicious tray of chocolate rugelach, and he’d only had to call his grandma twice to double check he was doing everything right. He’d cleaned up the kitchen, leaving no evidence that he shouldn’t be unsupervised while baking behind, and Arin hadn’t suspected a thing when he got home that evening.

This morning, however, Dan wakes Arin up the typical way he does on his birthday—he flings open his bedroom door, this time singing  _ Dancing Queen _ by ABBA. “You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life!” he sings, and Arin sits up slowly. His hair is falling out of the bun he’d placed it in before going to bed and his eyes are filled with what one could only describe as ‘murder’.

“I am going to kill you and dismember your body and then mail it to your family,” Arin says flatly.

“You’re dramatic when you’re awoken by your roommate kicking in your door for the third year in a row, aren’t you?” Dan says jovially. Arin would throw a pillow at him but he’s carrying a tray and he really doesn’t want whatever is on it all over his bedroom floor.

“Shut the fuck up and sit down, you asshole,” Arin grumbles. He peels off his Breathe-Right strip and tosses it in the trash. Dan settles on the bed and places the tray between them. It’s not the usual affair of pancakes, bacon, and fruit. Instead, it’s what looks like chocolate croissants and, as per usual, two bottles of Sunny-D.

Dan’s cheeks flush pink. “It’s chocolate rugelach. I made them yesterday while you were Grumping.” Arin vaguely remembers Dan mentioning rugelach as one of the few things he knows how to make. 

“You baked for me?” Arin asks, picking up one of the pastries. He cups his hand underneath the rugelach to catch crumbs, and he takes a bite. Immediately, he moans at how fucking good it is. Dan’s blush darkens and he picks up his own rugelach and crams half of it into his mouth. “Oh, my God, this is better than a blow job.”

Dan chokes on his food and splutters for a moment before he can get it swallowed. “I wouldn’t go that far,” he says, voice strained from nearly dying. “Either you’ve had some really subpar beej or you’re trying to flatter me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Arin asks, mouth full. 

“Well, thank you for the compliment, and I’m sorry for your history of subpar beej.”

“You make it sound like  _ I  _ give subpar blowies,” Arin scoffs. Dan  _ immediately _ doesn’t like where this is going. He knows Arin—it’s about to get really, really gay. “I give amazing blow jobs. I can deepthroat like a motherfucker.”

Dan covers his face and groans. “TMI, Arin.” When he peeks through his fingers, Arin is grinning at him while nibbling on his rugelach.

“What? I’m just stating facts.”

“Facts that I did not need to know,” Dan points out.

“Have you ever given a beej?” Arin asks, and Dan pauses with his food halfway to his mouth. What even  _ is  _ this morning anymore? 

Danny clears his throat. “Yeah.” It’s been a long damn time since he’s done it, though. Not since he lived in Bushwick. When you have fourteen roommates and you’re all stoned off your ass all the time, things happen. He’d also given… quite a lot in Philly, but he likes to forget about that time of his life. “Never uh, never gone farther than that, though.”

Arin’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really?”

Dan frowns. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

It takes Arin a moment to respond. He’s stalling by cramming another rugelach into his mouth. Once he finishes the pastry, he takes a long drink from his Sunny-D, and now that he’s run out of ways to stall, he figures he has to answer. “I mean… look at you, dude.” Dan looks down at himself as if he’ll suddenly see what Arin’s talking about. All he sees is his lanky, gangly legs and disgustingly skinny self. “You’re handsome as hell.

Dan’s cheeks flush, and the color creeps up to the tips of his ears. He scratches at his scruff sheepishly. “I… thanks, Arin. You’re pretty fucking handsome yourself.” Now it’s Arin’s turn to blush, and Dan notes that that particular shade of pink looks lovely on Arin’s cheeks. “You know, your name in my phone is Arin Handsome.”

Arin starts giggling, and it doesn’t take much for Dan to start, too. “You’re such a cheeseball!”

“You love my cheese,” Dan teases, still giggling.

“Yeah, I do,” Arin says softly, and when their eyes meet, it feels like the air in the room changes. It feels like the air right before a lightning storm, tense and crackling with an indescribable energy. Dan is the first to look away, clearing his throat and tugging at his curls.

“I, uh, I’m gonna… go take a shower,” he says, and slides off of Arin’s bed. Once he’s escaped the room, Arin sighs and covers his face with a pillow and shouts into it.

_ I fucked up. _

 

__ __ __

  
  


Dan stands underneath the shower spray, resting his hands against the wall with his head hanging low. His curls are saturated and matted to his head. He’s been in here for at least ten minutes and he hasn’t made any move to wash his hair or body yet.

_ That was… intense.  _ He’s wondered for a couple of months now whether Arin has a crush on him or not, and he’s starting to think that he does. It’s not like he’s adverse to the idea—quite the opposite, actually, if he’s truly honest with himself. Arin’s incredibly handsome, and he’s his best friend. Dana had indeed said once upon a time that to be happy in life all you really need to do is find a best friend that you wanna fuck. As usual, she’s right.

But he’s scared. He’s fucking terrified, actually. There’s  _ so _ much that could go wrong. They could wind up splitting and then that would make living together incredibly fucking awkward (even though Suzy and Arin had managed to live together after breaking up), or they could end up not being romantically compatible, or… Or Dan’s biggest fear—that Arin will change once they’re together and become someone that Dan doesn’t know at all. He doesn’t want to be afraid of Arin.

There’s a knock at the door and Dan jumps, startled. “You okay?” Arin asks through the door. “You’ve been in there a long time.”

Dan clears his throat. “U-uh, yeah, just washing my jew fro, you know?” He grabs the shampoo and dumps some into his hand and actually begins to wash his hair since it’s already soaked and he’s due anyway.

“Okay, just checking,” Arin calls back.

With a sigh, Dan works on shampooing his mass of curls. It takes a long time to make sure that all of the suds are out, but once he’s sure, he quickly washes his body and turns off the shower. They  _ are _ in a drought after all and he’s been in here for at least twenty five minutes. Great. On top of freaking out about his roommate he’s killing the environment.

Dan wraps his head in a towel, not feeling like bothering with the blow dryer today, and pats himself dry before wrapping a second towel around his waist. In his haste to escape an awkward situation, he forgot to grab his clothes. What a smart, smart man he is.

He opens the door and pokes his head into the hallway, thankfully not seeing Arin anywhere, and he hurries to his room. He quickly dresses in a pair of plaid pajama pants his mom got him during his last trip home for the holidays and his Dannysaur shirt. 

Dan finds Arin in the kitchen nibbling on another rugelach, and he wraps his arms around him from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder. Arin tenses up for a moment before relaxing against Dan, who’s resolutely trying to not think about how nice Arin feels against him.

“I’m not mad at you, if you were worried about that,” Dan says softly.

“I wasn’t worried you were  _ mad _ ,” Arin tells him. “I was more worried I’d made you uncomfortable and freaked you the fuck out.”

Dan chuckles. “I just kind of… panicked,” he admits. “I don’t do well with… most things, actually.” Arin snorts, which makes Dan giggle. There are several long seconds of comfortable silence. “So… I take it you like the rugelach?” He releases his hold on Arin and goes to the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk to have with his own rugelach.

“Dude, they’re so good. I’ll never doubt you again when you say you can cook something.”

“It’s probably safer for you in the long run if you continue to doubt my skills in the kitchen. I have my very small amount of recipes I can make and other than that, I stay in my lane for fear of destroying the kitchen or a loved one.” Arin pats his shoulder.

“I’ll teach you to cook yet, Danny-boy,” Arin teases.

“Why?” Dan asks with a grin. “You’re already an  _ amazing _ cook and you have yet to make me anything I hate. And, as a bonus, you look good while doin’ it.”

“Okay, now you’re just buttering me up.” Arin pokes Dan’s side and he squeaks and scoots away.

“Is it working?” Dan smirks. Arin glares.

“Yes.”

Dan chuckles and rinses out his glass and sets it in the sink. He headbutts Arin’s shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll let you win at Mario Kart since it’s your birthday.” 

Arin follows him into the living room. “ _ Let me win _ ? You’re the worst Mario Kart player in existence.”

“Maybe I’ve been hustling you.”

Arin scoffs. “Bring it on then, old man.”

As per usual, Dan loses  _ spectacularly _ but it doesn’t matter, because the happy look on Arin’s face is all the victory he really needs.

 

#  Wednesday, MAY 5, 2013

 

Dan is surprised to see Arin’s Mini Cooper in the driveway when he comes home from work. He’s supposed to be recording with Jon until late. Dan had even stopped by Sugarfish on the way home since he planned on eating alone. He opens the front door, expecting to find Arin in the living room, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Danny hangs up his keys and puts his dinner in the fridge.

“Ar?” he calls out. It’s way too quiet considering the fact that Arin is (apparently) home. He walks down the hallway to Arin’s room, and upon reaching the door, he hears a sound he never, ever wanted to hear.

Arin is crying.

He knocks on the door softly. “Arin?”

“It’s open,” Arin replies, voice muffled. 

Dan opens the door, revealing Arin face down on his bed. He shuts the door and lays down on the bed next to Arin and begins to rub his back. Arin’s still crying, and his body is shaking with it. Dan’s heart is in his throat.  _ Did someone die? Was there an accident?  _

“What happened, baby bear?”

Arin raises up onto his elbows and rubs at his eyes and his nose. Dan reaches behind himself and grabs the kleenex box off of the nightstand and offers it to Arin. He gratefully takes one and wipes at his face. Dan sets the box between the two of them and resumes rubbing Arin’s back.

“Jon is leaving.”

Dan feels like an asshole for the flood of relief he feels. He’s eternally thankful that no one is dead or injured, but he’s also sad for Arin. He’s put so much of himself into Game Grumps over the past ten months. It’s afforded them more financial stability, too. Game Grumps makes Arin  _ happy _ .

“How come? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

Arin shakes his head and he looks over at Dan. His face is red and blotchy, and his eyes are puffy and bloodshot and still glassy with tears. Even when he’s been crying, he looks beautiful. Dan reaches out a shaky hand and brushes away one of the stray tears.

“He’s moving to New York. He wants to focus on his own channel or whatever.” He covers his face with his hands. “What am I gonna do, Danny?”

The desperation and fear in Arin’s voice makes Dan’s stomach twist. He pulls Arin in close and holds him to his chest, which starts up the tears again. He runs his fingers through Arin’s soft hair and makes quiet comforting noises. He’s got tears of his own running down his cheeks, and he’s thankful that he’s generally a silent crier because he doesn’t want Arin to feel even worse.

“We’ll figure it out, baby girl,” Dan promises. “I believe in you, okay?” Arin nods and holds Dan tighter. He’s pulling out all the nicknames that he has for Arin (none of which he knows where they came from), hoping that it makes Arin feel at least an iota better. He never wants to see Arin this distraught again. There’s something fundamentally wrong with the universe if Arin is crying.

At that moment, Dan makes a promise to himself to do his damndest to make sure Arin doesn’t cry, and if he  _ does _ , that he’s there to hold him and make it better.

 

#  Thursday, MAY 16, 2013

 

Arin looks and feels like death warmed over. Dan had stayed with him all night, not wanting to leave him alone for fear he’d start crying again. They’d talked into the early hours of the morning until Danny fell asleep in the middle of a sentence. Arin hadn’t managed to sleep at all, and now it’s six in the morning and he’s lying there in his bed, watching his roommate sleep soundly. 

He’s so goddamn in love with Dan that it’s unreal. He’s pretty sure that  _ everyone _ but Dan is aware of it, too, since he’s not exactly  _ subtle  _ with his longing looks at the older man. He can’t help it. Every time he looks at Dan, he gets this look in his eyes. Suzy told him that he looks at Dan like he’s the entire center of his universe. He couldn’t deny it even if he tried.

The way the sunlight falls across his bed illuminates Danny’s face enough for Arin to see the hints of red in his beard and his wild curls, and he can see just how long his eyelashes are due to the shadows being cast upon his cheeks. He’s absolutely beautiful—everything about him makes Arin’s stomach feel like it’s doing Nadia Comaneci’s Olympics routine.

All of this is the exact reason that it occurs to him then, at half six in the morning that he wants Dan to take the place of Not-So-Grump. It makes perfect sense—he loves Dan with every fiber of his being, and he wants to share the things that make him happy with the other man, and Game Grumps makes him happy. And, as a bonus, he’d get to spend hours playing video games with his best friend  _ while _ getting paid for it.

The only problem would be working it in around Dan’s job. He has a Monday through Friday typical nine-to-five job. They could always do recordings on Saturday, but that would require long recording sessions. He doesn’t want to pull Dan in too many directions, especially since his health is so much better, both physically and emotionally.

Arin’s internal debate is cut short when Dan groans from beside him as he wakes. He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand and opens his eyes to find Arin watching him. “Hello,” Dan says, and his voice is crackly and deep.

Arin smiles. “You smell different when you’re awake.”

It has the desired effect—Dan starts giggling  _ immediately,  _ the snorting and gasping giggle he gets when he’s absolutely tickled pink. Arin can’t help but join in; Dan’s laugh is infectious. The older man shoves him playfully.

“You’re so fucking weird.” When his giggles quiet, he sits up and stretches, grunting when his shoulders and back crack loudly. He looks over at Arin, who’s still underneath the pink comforter. “You feelin’ better this mornin’?” His Jersey accent is always a bit more pronounced when he’s tired.

“Yeah,” Arin says. He sits up too and rests against the headboard.

Dan leans in closer to Arin, squinting. He doesn’t have his contacts in or his glasses on, so everything is a bit blurry, but once he’s leaned closer to Arin, he sees just how sleep deprived he looks. “Did you sleep at all, baby girl?”

Every time Dan calls him that or ‘baby bear’ it feels like he’s had a match lit inside of his chest. His cheeks flush slightly. “No.”

Dan sighs and brushes Arin’s hair out of his face. “How come?”

Arin shrugs. “Thinkin’. ‘Bout stuff.”

“Could you maybe be a  _ little  _ more vague?” Dan teases.

Arin rolls his eyes, but he clarifies. “I think I found a solution for what to do about Jon leaving.” Dan’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Really? Already? Damn, son.”

“I want you to be Not-So-Grump.”

_ Silence _ .

Dan blinks several times in rapid succession as he tries to figure out if what he just heard is real or not. His ears are playing tricks, right? “You want  _ me _ to be Not-So-Grump? Me? Dan ‘Hasn’t-Played-A-Game-Since-1987’ Avidan?” Arin snorts and nudges Dan with his foot from underneath the duvet.

“Yes, you, you big muppet fuck.” 

Dan snorts and nudges Arin back. “Of course I’ll be Not-So-Grump, dude. I’d be honored.” It’ll be a lot of work to balance his job at Maker, the work he does with NSP, and Game Grumps recording, but he’ll balance a million things at once if it makes Arin happy.

 

#  Monday, JUNE 24, 2013

 

The morning that Dan's first episode goes up is rough. The change has come with absolutely no warning—the day before had been another Star Wars episode with Jon, and today it's suddenly Punch-Out with Dan. And, in his infinite wisdom, Dan does  _ exactly  _ what he knows he shouldn't do. 

He reads the comments.

He  _ knows _ better. It’s not like he’s a stranger to the world of YouTube and the assholes that populate the comment section, but this is something that he could potentially ruin for Arin and Barry. Ninja Sex Party is different—that’s something he and Brian built from the ground up, but Grumps is something he’d agreed to do to help Arin, something that he’s joining as a replacement for someone who is very beloved. Arin had even told him yesterday that the likes to dislikes ratio will probably be a little wild and people will be angry, but for him to just be himself and that they’ll love him faster than he expects. He’d been confident as hell about that yesterday.

Now, however? Not so much.

When he abandons his desk with his head down so that he can rush to the bathroom and  _ not  _ burst into tears in the middle of the office cubicle, Vernon thinks nothing of it. He knows Dan has stomach issues, and though they’re mostly under control, he has flare ups every now and then. However, when he doesn’t come back after thirty minutes, he figures he should go make sure his friend hasn’t died in the office bathroom.

He pushes open the door and immediately hears someone trying to stifle tears. Vernon walks to the end of the line of stalls, and after a cursory peek to make sure that it is indeed Dan, he knocks on the door. 

“Danny? Will you please unlock the door?”

For a moment he thinks he’s gonna have to dig out a quarter and jimmy the door open himself, but the lock turns and Dan comes out. There are tears running down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. He's shaking and he can't keep eye contact with Vern for more than two seconds. 

“Is it okay for me to touch you?” Vernon asks, holding his hands up in front of himself. After a moment of consideration, Dan shakes his head ‘no’. “Okay. Gotcha. You're not safe to drive, are you?” Again, he shakes his head ‘no.’  _ He desperately wants Arin right now.  _ “I'm gonna call Arin and have him pick you up. We'll clock you out and say you threw up.”

“M-my car,” he points out. He can't just  _ leave  _ it. 

Vernon holds out his hand. “Gimme your keys. I rode my bike in today and your Murano has a big enough hatch for me to get it in there, and then I'll bike home from your place.”  _ God bless Vernon Shaw _ . Dan fishes his keys from his pocket and hands them to Vernon, who has just dialed Arin's number. 

Dan can hear Arin's tinny voice from the receiver, and it makes him cry harder. God, he feels like such a fuckup. His roommate has to pick him up at  _ work  _ because he's having a goddamn  _ panic attack _ . 

_ I'm pathetic. I don't deserve any of this. How am I supposed to handle any kind of success if the mere hate on a YouTube video can reduce me to a blubbering pissbaby? I'm not worth anyone's time— _

“Dan,” Vernon says sharply, and only then does Dan realize he's got his fingers tangled in his hair, practically trying to rip it out. He lets go, ashamed, and wraps his arms around himself. “C’mon. Let’s go get your jacket. I'll let the boss know you're going home and then I'll sit with you out front while we wait for Arin.”

True to his word, Vernon finds them a nice shady spot to stand in while they wait for Arin to arrive. Vernon is chattering, talking about everything and nothing at all, which Dan is very thankful for because it gives him something to grasp onto  _ other  _ than the cyclical thoughts. 

Arin pulls up to the curb not less than six minutes later, and he's practically out of the car before it's even in park. Seeing Arin's worried face just sets Dan off again, and he collides roughly with Arin, clinging to him and burying his face against Arin's neck. 

“Thank you,” he mouths to Vernon, who gives him a thumbs up and heads back inside. 

Arin holds Dan and they sway back and forth for a moment. “C’mon, kitten, let's get you home.” The new nickname startles Dan into halting his crying, and he looks at Arin with wide, confused eyes. Arin's never called him that before. He gets a soft smile in response. “If I'm Big Cat, then you're my kitten.”

Even through the cycle of bullshit in his head, he acknowledges just how much he cares about this man. The amount of people that’ve fled and abandoned him upon figuring out just how fucked up he is feels like it's in the fucking thousands. Girlfriends, friends, acquaintances… it's not like he blames them. He wishes he could abandon himself sometimes, too. 

During the ride back to their house, Dan keeps his eyes trained on his knees, and he doesn't realize he's been scratching at his wrist absentmindedly until Arin wrenches his hand away and tangles their fingers together. He didn't manage to break the skin but it's rubbed raw, and it's abraised.

Once they're home, Dan heads to his room to change out of his jeans and his button down. He feels stifled in them, and once he's got on his ratty Giants pajama bottoms and his size 4XL shirt that he'd nicked from his friend Raúl back in college. It's faded and threadbare, filled with holes from dropping the cherry of a blunt onto it too many times.  _ Boston University  _ is just barely still legible across the chest. 

He returns to the living room to see that Arin has gotten him a glass of chocolate milk and a plate of graham crackers—one of his favorite comfort foods. He curls up into a ball on the couch cushion and takes a careful sip of his milk. His hands are still shaking and he really doesn’t want to spill his drink all over himself and the couch. He’s slowly nibbling on one of the crackers when Arin enters the living room from the kitchen. He has one of Dan’s pill bottles in his hand. He holds it up.

“Do you need one of these, or are you doing okay enough now to get by without it?” It’s his Xanax that he has for emergencies. He’d been on Lorazepam, but it had given him severe nausea so Doctor Collins had switched him over to the other drug.

“I think I’ll be okay,” Dan says, voice timid. He doesn’t like to have to take them—for one, it makes him feel weak, like he can’t control his insane bullshit without pharmaceutical help, which is just stupid because he’s  _ on _ medication anyway. It makes him drowsy and feel like he’s filled with sand, and he always has one helluva medication hangover when he wakes up. Arin nods and puts the pill bottle back into the cupboard before taking a seat next to Dan. Before he has the chance to ask Dan if it’s alright if he touches him, Dan has leaned all of his bodyweight against him.

“What happened?” Arin asks. He lightly strokes Dan’s hair.

In a very quiet voice, Dan answers, “I read the comments.”

“Oh, Danny,” Arin says. He’d also seen the comments—people were  _ outraged _ . “I thought you were alright with the fact that people are gonna be assholes for a while.”

“I was. I am.” He sniffles. “Usually.”

“What was different about today?”

“My fucking OCD,” Dan says with vehemence. “I just… I got curious, you know? I figured it wouldn’t be a problem, since I’m not exactly a stranger to being hated on the internet.” He’d gotten a fair amount of hateful comments when he’d joined Mondo for a while, but that was also a  _ huge _ team of people and if what he was doing didn’t pan out, they still had a million other things to fall back on. “But I then realized that if everyone hates me and you lose a ton of subscribers and views, I’m ruining something that you’re  _ so  _ proud of and so excited about every day and I don’t want to ruin this for you, Arin.” 

He’s starting to tear up again, and he’s talking way too fast for Arin to probably even understand him, but now that the wellspring has opened he can’t seem to turn it off. “I’d never forgive myself if I was the reason this was yanked out from underneath you. You’ve finally relaxed now that you know you have a steady income and you’re not relying on YouTube’s stupid algorithms to make sure that your animations are seen and you’ve been so happy the past several months and—”

Arin covers Dan’s mouth with his hand. “I need you to listen to me very carefully, Danny.” He uncovers Dan’s mouth and shifts on the couch so that they’re facing each other, and he takes both of Dan’s hands in his. He rubs his thumbs over Dan’s knuckles and the prominent veins that stand out against his hands. He turns Dan’s hands over, and upon seeing the angry, red-speckled patch of skin where he’d been scratching himself on the way home, Arin lifts his right hand up and softly kisses the spot. Dan’s eyes widen and his heart surges into his throat.

“I asked you to do this show with me because I want you to, because I love spending time with you and because you’re my best friend. I went into this thing knowing that it could go kaput at any time. For all I know, tomorrow the algorithm could change and suddenly what’s most popular and garners the most views could be videos of people vacuuming grass.” Dan quirks an eyebrow at that, but Arin barrels on. “My point here is that even  _ if _ everything goes to shit, it’s worth it because I got to do it with you.”

“Arin…” Dan sniffles again. It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him before.

“I promise you, everything will blow over. Everyone will love you.” Arin smiles at him, and he’s hit by a feeling that reminds him of when he used to swing too high on the playground and get scared that he’d go flying off into the sky and never come back down. “I mean, how could they not?” Dan opens his mouth and Arin narrows his eyes. “That’s not an invitation for you to start trying to give me reasons, either.”

That gets a giggle out of Dan. Arin hugs him tight before they settle back onto the couch, leaning against each other with the soft blue blanket that usually rests over the back of the couch draped over their legs as they watch Tom and Jerry. They share the chocolate milk and the remainder of the graham crackers.

Maybe things will be okay after all.

 

#  Thursday, JULY 4, 2013

 

Dan pretends he doesn’t notice the first eight fucking times Suzy takes a picture of him and Arin, but on the ninth, he turns to look at her and he winks. She scurries away, embarrassed that she’s been caught. She’s been doing it all day, and normally when she’s taking pictures of people during outings or events or whatever, she’s not trying to be sneaky. He has no idea what she wants with the pictures, but he doesn’t mind. It’s just amusing to him that she’s terrible at being covert.

The sun has mostly set by now, and the Los Angeles sky is streaked with pinks and purples, and to the east, dark blues that remind Dan of the beach at the Jersey Shore. He’s full of grilled chicken (courtesy of Suzy, seeing as he’s cut red meat out of his diet due to his stomach problems) and delicious pasta salad. Suzy’s birthday was yesterday, and so they’d combined the holiday with Suzy’s birthday and Barry and Suzy had hosted a barbeque. Luckily, they can see lots of fireworks from Suzy and Barry’s backyard.

Danny and Arin are settled on a blanket in the yard, much like Holly and Ross are. Barry is sitting on the garden swing with Violet on his lap. She’s sleepy, but she’s excited for the fireworks. Suzy settles next to Barry and gives him a loving kiss, to which their daughter chimes “ewwww” loudly. Ross cackles and Holly whacks his arm lightly.

Over the past couple of weeks, things have settled a bit YouTube wise. Their videos have stopped being primarily dislikes, and the comments are much less harsh. People are already starting to come around, much to Arin’s enjoyment. 

When the first firework goes off, Dan jumps. He still has problems with super loud noises sometimes. Arin notices and covers Dan’s left hand with his right one and slots his fingers between Dan’s. It’s as if Arin has flipped a switch; Dan relaxes immediately. Arin doesn’t look away from the sky where the firework is fading. Dan, however, is looking at Arin as he watches the next several fireworks launch into the air. The colors and lights dance across his face, reflecting in his eyes.

After a moment, Arin realizes that Dan is staring at him, and he turns to look at him. “What?” he asks quietly.

Dan’s breath catches in his chest, and when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. He flounders for a moment before he shakes his head, indicating that it’s nothing. Arin gives him the side eye but takes his answer at face value, and he turns back to look at the fireworks. Dan looks up at the display of lights, too, taking in the pure magic that comes with the Fourth of July. 

All of the sudden, he’s hit out of  _ nowhere _ by a speeding bullet train filled with feelings, and he realizes at that exact moment that he never wants to let Arin go. He wants to be sitting on a blanket in the grass with his ass going numb getting mosquito bites as he holds Arin’s hand until he’s too old to do so anymore. He wants to wake up every morning to Arin’s bedhead and his morning breath and the sight of his Breathe-Right strip peeling off on one side. He wants to be the one to make Arin laugh and to be there to hold him when he cries.

He’s in love. My  _ God _ , is he in love, and he has no idea why it took until this moment for him to realize it.

Dan reaches up and touches the pendant that hangs around his neck and smiles.

 

#  Tuesday, JULY 16, 2013

 

He’s doing the thing again. He’s reading the comments. The stupid jerk-off comments from trolls don’t bother him much anymore. After Arin had assuaged his worries, he didn’t pay them too much mind. He’s reading the comments  _ this _ time because one of his friends from back home texted him with a screenshot of some of them. Every single one was basically people making bets on whether Arin and Dan were dating or not.

Dan is chewing on his bottom lip, and he has been for long enough that it’s starting to get raw and he can taste copper. He scrolls up to the top of the page and starts the video, trying to hear what everyone else is hearing between the two of them. Is he being that obvious that he likes Arin? To him, it doesn’t sound any different than their normal banter. They always flirt like that. They’ve been doing it since day one.

He sighs and rubs at his temples. He’s probably freaking out over nothing—wow, what a shocker—but he doesn’t really want Arin to read those comments and get weirded out or anything. It shouldn’t really be a problem, since Arin is smart enough to stay out of the comment section, unlike  _ some _ people.

Honestly, Dan would be devastated if he made Arin uncomfortable because of his own stupid feelings. It’s not like he’s not experienced in repressing his feelings. He snorts derisively at the thought.

If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s pretending everything's a-okay.

 

#  Tuesday, JULY 23, 2013

 

Arin sighs and looks at Suzy, who is sitting across from him at the table on his back porch. Dan’s been avoiding him for the better part of a week, and he has no idea why. He can’t remember saying anything that could have upset him and he’s pretty sure he didn’t do anything stupid like shrink his clothes in the washer or something. He doesn’t know what he did wrong.

Dan is due home from work any minute now, and Arin shifts anxiously in his seat. Suzy taps her long nails on the tabletop.  _ She  _ knows what’s going on, because of  _ course _ she does. She’s Suzy. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” she tells Arin, smiling. It’s the smile that says “ _ I know something you don’t know _ ” and Arin wants to whack her one. She  _ knows _ how annoyed that damn smile makes him.

He huffs, annoyed. “You’re doing the thing again.”

She just grins bigger, but she squeals loudly when Arin reaches across the table and ruffles her hair. She’s dressed down today, with her hair up in a butterfly clip and a plain black cotton sundress on and no makeup, otherwise Arin wouldn’t have messed with her hair. He’d like to live to be thirty.

At the sound of a car door shutting, Suzy perks up. “I believe your man is home,” she says, and Arin splutters.

“He’s not my man!”

“We’ll see,” she sing-songs as she slips back into the house, leaving him sitting there with his mouth agape.

 

__ __ __

  
  


Suzy finds Dan in the kitchen, looking through the cupboard for the graham crackers. He turns around at the sound of her footsteps, and he’s just about to say hello when she crowds into his space and pokes his chest with her finger. His eyes widen. He may be almost a foot taller than she is, but she’s still scary as hell when she wants to be.

“U-um, how can I help you?” Dan asks nervously.

“You can help me when you stop being a pussy and start talking to Arin again,” she says firmly. Her fingernail is slightly digging into Dan’s sternum, but he doesn’t dare say anything. “I know you’re balls deep in love with him but that doesn’t mean you have to run away from him every time he enters a room.”

He gets ready to deny it, but he stops himself. What's the point in denying something that Suzy  _ knows _ is true? Through the sliding door behind them, Dan can see that Arin is preparing to come back inside, and Dan grabs Suzy's hand and begins to pull her towards his room. When she begins to protest, he says “If you really want me to talk about this we are  _ not  _ doing it in the middle of the damn kitchen.” He lets go of her wrist and ushers her into his room and then closes the door behind them.

Suzy looks around, taking in the vast amount of knickknacks he's accumulated. She's been in here before—she helped him pick out his bed and his shelves and bookcase when he could finally afford it. It's changed a lot since then, obviously. The large shelves they'd picked out are weighed down by Giants memorabilia and football helmets, and the bookshelf is crammed full of books, and on the uppermost shelf he has all of his little trinkets and the boxes that contain all of his Magic cards. His Rickenbacker is on its stand next to his stereo. The dresser is against the wall opposite the bed. The walls are covered in art and his framed cel and his framed Rush albums. 

“Does it pass Suzy inspection?” Dan asks jokingly, sitting on the edge of his bed. Suzy sits down next to him, folding her legs underneath herself until they're hidden by the skirt of her dress. 

“It's very  _ you _ ,” she says. She looks up at him, jaw set in the telltale way that says she means business. “So, why the hell are you ignoring Arin?”

Dan sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I was reading some comments—” Suzy makes a noise, and he shoots her a look that clearly says he doesn't need her to tell him how stupid that is “—cause my friend Maureen sent me a screenshot of people debating whether or not Arin and I were dating.” He stands up and begins to pace, needing to find an outlet for the nervous, buzzing energy inside of his body. This is the first time he's saying any of this aloud, which makes it more  _ real  _ somehow. “I thought like, it was just those few people, but no. It was like,  _ half _ of the fuckin’ comment section, Scuze!

“What if he's seen it? What if I'm creeping him out somehow? I can't lose him, Suzy, especially not over something this dumb.”

Suzy is silent for long enough that Dan starts to get worried, but that's squashed when he gets smacked in the face with one of his pillows. He shouts, surprised. It didn't hurt, but he definitely wasn't expecting it. 

“For an intelligent man,” Suzy begins slowly, “you're really fucking dense.”

Dan furrows his brow, confused. He sits back down on the bed, eyeing the pillow that Suzy is still holding onto warily. “What are you talking about?”

He has time to curl in on himself before Suzy starts whacking him with the soft feather pillow. “He's in love with you, you dumbass!” She punctuates each word with another whack. When she's done, she sets the pillow on her lap and rests her elbows on it.

Dan's mind is reeling.  _ Arin's in love with me? There's no fucking way. I would have noticed!  _ “He is not,” Dan says.

“I can assure you he most definitely is head over heels for you, Dan.”

“He can't be,” he denies.

Suzy frowns. “He can and he is. Why do you think he couldn't be?”

Dan looks at her incredulously. He loves Suzy to death—she reminds him of Dana, with the way she's determined to do what she wants, despite what people  _ think  _ she's capable of. She's ambitious and creative and sweet, but despite how close he is with her, there are things she still doesn't know about him. Things no one but Arin knows. 

He waves a hand in front of himself, gesturing to his body. “This, for one,” he says, just a bit bitter. He's still not happy with his body. He's gained a lot of weight since he's moved to L.A. but he still looks skeletal and malnourished in his own personal opinion. He looks away from Suzy's disapproving frown. “And I'm fuckin’ crazy. I've got so many issues and so much baggage and no one needs to be burdened with my inability to be normal.”

“Danny,” Suzy says softly, and she covers his hand with one of hers. They're small and soft and a bit cold. “You're not crazy.” He opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him. “I'm bipolar and on medication for it. Holly has BPD and clinical depression and anxiety. Would you tell us  _ we're  _ crazy?”

“I—no, I wouldn't,” Dan says, resigned. “I see your point.” He flops onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. “It's not just that, either.” He doesn't know how to begin this line of conversation without giving too much away. 

“What is it?” Suzy has his hand in her lap and she's fiddling with his fingers. It gives him a nice distraction from the way his thoughts are trying to swirl. 

“Y-you two dated for a few years, right?” Dan asks, and Suzy looks up at him, surprised. This is  _ not _ where she expected the conversation to go.

“Yeah. We were together for almost five years.” For most of their relationship she wasn't ready for sex anyway, but eventually the fact that Arin is gay created a wedge because she definitely wanted sex to be part of a relationship. They'd broken up on very good terms (obviously, since they were roommates) and it hadn't damaged their friendship in the slightest. “Why?”

“You guys were friends for a couple years before that, right?” Suzy nods. “Did… did he change at all after you guys got together?”

Suzy cocks her head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? He got more… boyfriendly, if that's what you're asking. You know, hugs and kisses and lots of snuggles and stuff.”

“He didn't like, get… aggressive or anything?” Dan chews his bottom lip nervously. It's a bad habit that he really needs to work on. 

Suzy frowns. “Where is this coming from?” 

Dan pointedly refuses to look over at her. “It's not important. Forget I said anything.”

“If it wasn't important you wouldn't have brought it up,” Suzy points out. As per usual, she's right. Goddamnit.

“I just… wanna make sure that he's still  _ Arin _ , you know?” His voice sounds meek to his own ears, and he's sure it doesn't sound much better to Suzy. “I'm scared, Suze. I don't want to be but I am.”

Suzy squeezes his hand. He knows what she's gonna ask next and he wishes he could cover his ears and block it out. “Danny, did something happen?”

“Don't,” he says quietly, closing his eyes. “Please.” Suzy squeezes his hand again and brushes a few stray curls away from his forehead. 

“Okay,” she agrees, and Dan releases the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. “To answer your question, though, he won't do that to you. I promise.” She doesn't know exactly what happened, but she can deduce enough to get a general idea. “He's all about enthusiastic consent.” 

Dan nods and wipes the tears that are leaking from the corners of his eyes. He already felt bad enough about Arin knowing, but now Suzy knows, too. God fucking dammit. He's sure that Suzy now thinks he's a weak pussy that couldn't fucking defend himself, because she'd be right. 

He jumps, startled when he suddenly finds Suzy resting her head on his chest as she wraps her arms around him. “I don't know exactly what you went through,” she says softly, “but I  _ do  _ know that it wasn't your fault.”

Dan presses the heel of his palms against his eyes, trying to stave off the tears. He doesn’t want to breakdown right now, not in front of Suzy. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, but it’s the truth. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you didn’t ask for it to happen. You said no and that should be the end of it.” The dam breaks and a gasping sob wrenches itself from his chest. Suzy holds him tighter.

In the living room, Arin looks up, startled, when he hears Dan crying. He’s halfway up out of his seat before he remembers that Suzy is in there with him, so he’ll be okay. It physically hurts in his chest when he makes himself sit down instead of breaking down Dan’s door to comfort him. He turns up the TV to mask the sounds before he goes insane.

Suzy talks to him while he cries, telling him about what Violet has been up to lately, how she said her first curse word last week, and how she keeps running into the underside of the kitchen table because she hasn’t yet figured out that it’ll happen every time. He appreciates it, and her soft voice helps him relax and stop crying much sooner than he generally would. 

Suzy sits up and pulls Dan up as well before hugging him tight. “Talk to him when you’re ready, okay? It’ll all be okay.”

“Thank you, Scuze.” He kisses the top of her head and lets her go. She stands up and brushes off her dress. “You heading home?”

“Yeah. Barry is making dinner and he’s one hell of a good cook, and Violet will throw a fit if I’m not there to read her Goodnight Moon.” Dan chuckles.

“She’s got good taste.”

Suzy smiles and leaves his room, making sure to shut the door behind herself. She’s hounded by Arin, however, the moment she enters the living room, and before he can even ask, she holds up her hands in front of herself, signifying that he needs to wait a second before word vomiting all over her. 

“He’s fine,” she assures Arin. “It just got a bit personal and emotional for a little bit.” Arin seems to relax at this information, and Suzy pats his shoulder. “I’m not going to ask what happened because if Dan wants me to know, he’ll tell me.” Suzy looks up at Arin, her normally happy face set into a serious expression. “Is he doing okay? Is he coping alright?”

Arin sighs and brushes his hair away from his face. “Yeah, we’re working through it alright. Some days are rougher than others, but he’s doing a lot better than he had been.” He tugs the hair tie off of his wrist and pulls his hair back into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. The breeze on his overheated skin feels nice. “Gotta take it one step at a time, you know?”

Suzy knows. She'd been in an abusive relationship before Arin had come back to get her from Florida. That was almost six years ago and she's still dealing with it. Suzy isn't too worried about Dan—he has Arin, and she knows firsthand how damn helpful he is and how much he wants to help. There's no one more capable to help Dan through all of this than Arin, in her opinion. 

Suzy hugs Arin tight and slips her shoes back on, and with a peck on the cheek, she's gone.

Arin decides to give Dan some time—he doesn't always want to deal with people after he cries, so Arin starts dinner. He's just put the linguini into the pot when he hears Dan's bedroom door open.

Danny enters the kitchen already dressed in his pajamas, and he hops up on the corner counter and leans back against the cabinets. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Arin says, stirring the sauce. It's homemade. Normally he'd have meat in it but Dan can't have red meat anymore, so it's filled with lots of chunks of veggies and good spices. He turns down the heat to a simmer and turns back to the noodles. “How was work?”

Dan groans. “Boring as hell. I hate it there,” he grumbles. “I can't stand being trapped in a damn cubicle at a desk doing data entry and rerouting calls and shit no matter  _ how  _ awesome my coworkers are. It feels like my soul is being sucked out of my ass everytime I sit down in that fucking chair.”

Arin looks at him in surprise. He'd known Dan wasn't fond of his job but he didn't know he disliked it this much. “I didn't realize it made you so unhappy.”

Dan waves his hand dismissively. “It is what it is, you know? I'm not in a position where I have many other options.”

Arin frowns. Game Grumps is doing pretty damn well, and Ninja Sex Party has gained a lot of subscribers and views since Dan joined the show. Arin hopes that soon their combined incomes from Egoraptor, Game Grumps, and Ninja Sex Party will allow Dan to quit his job. He's been looking over the numbers and it should be a viable option before the year is up. 

Arin drains the spaghetti into the sink, spluttering at the wave of hot steam that hits him in the face. Dan giggles as he sets the table behind Arin. “It's a free facial.” His mind  _ immediately _ nosedives into the gutter, and all he can think of is Dan on his knees in front of him with Arin's cum covering his cheeks and lips. 

He scurries out of the kitchen at light speed, shouting something about suddenly needing to pee, and he shuts himself in the bathroom. 

_ Holy shit. _

If that's going to happen any time Dan says something vaguely sexual, Arin is going to be in for one hell of a fucking ride.

 

#  Thursday, OCTOBER 31, 2013

 

Over the past month, Dan has been (not so) subtly trying to figure out if Arin is attracted to him. He knows what Suzy told him, and though he trusts her implicitly, it’s something he has to see for himself. He’s pulled out every old trick in the book that he can think of short of walking up to Arin and kissing him, which honestly is probably what he’ll have to do if he wants Arin to notice he’s flirting with him. He never realized how hard it is to flirt with someone  _ seriously _ when half of the way you communicate with said person is through flirting.

He’s stooped lower than he thought possible, ending up using cliches to try and get Arin’s attention. More than once he’s “forgotten” to bring in his clothes when he showers, so he has to walk through the house in nothing but a towel. He can feel Arin’s eyes on him, but the other man never says anything.

One of his pairs of jeans had finally bit the bucket when they ripped in the ass, and he’d had to buy a new pair. He’d actually found a pair that practically fit, hugging his lack of an ass and making it look like there was more padding than a flat pancake has. When he’d showed them to Arin, he’d been amazed that Dan was wearing pants that fit him. He’d turned around and said, “And they do wonders for making it look like I actually have an ass.” He could hear Arin’s loud swallow from where he stood five feet away.

“You already have a nice ass,” Arin had said, sounding slightly breathless, “But I do admit, those jeans make it look even better.”

That had been the closest he’d gotten to an acknowledgement about Arin being attracted to him, but it could have just been basic aesthetic attraction. Dan groans, frustrated into his pillow. It’s Halloween and thus he has to suffer through  _ another _ horror movie marathon. Arin is preparing the couch with blankets and pillows and popping the popcorn right now, actually, and Dan had told him he’s going to go put on pajamas.  _ Well _ , he decides as he shucks off his jeans and underwear so he can pull on one of his smaller pairs of briefs,  _ if I have to suffer, so does he, goddammit _ . Dan creeps into Arin’s room and snags one of his Sailor Moon shirts and tugs it on. It hangs down to his thighs and it’s slipping off of his shoulder.

When Arin calls his name, he heads out into the living room. He passes by a completely stunned Arin as he enters the kitchen and grabs a La Croix from the fridge. He holds it up. “D’you want one?”

“Uh,” Arin says dumbly. All of his brain power has gone into focusing on Dan’s  _ legs _ . Good god  _ damn _ he has a lot of leg. It feels like they go on for fucking miles. His right knee is a little janky, turning inward slightly, giving it an incredibly knobbly shape, but it just adds to how cute Dan is. When he looks up at his roommate, he’s got a knowing smile on his face. “What did you want?”

Dan snorts quietly. “I wanted to know if  _ you _ wanted something to drink. You look a little thirsty.”

Arin splutters. “Y-yeah, okay, I’ll take one.” He sits down on the couch and pulls the blanket over himself, effectively hiding the half-chub he’s got. He has the remote and the popcorn since last year Dan thought it would be wise to fling the popcorn all over hell’s half acre. Dan comes back with a La Croix for Arin, and he settles on the couch next to him. His shirt rides up when he sits, showing off the blue star-patterned orange y-fronts—the ones he’d worn in Three Minutes of Ecstasy.  _ Fuckin’ _ ...

“So, what hellish creations am I being subjected to  _ this _ year?” Dan asks through a mouthful of popcorn.

“We’re starting with  _ Mama _ , and then we’ll watch  _ The Conjuring _ , and then  _ The Possession _ ,” says Arin in a jovial tone that makes Dan wanna shove his can of La Croix up Arin’s nose.

“Isn’t  _ Mama  _ directed by Guillermo del Toro?” Dan asks. He groans loudly when Arin replies with a happy ‘yep!’ Pan’s Labyrinth had fucked with him, and now he’s expected to let Guillermo fuck with his mind some more? God dammit.

Luckily, he makes it through  _ Mama _ with little incident, only needing to cover his face and screech in absolute terror three times, which is a one up on the way he reacted to  _ The Grudge _ the previous year.  _ The Conjuring  _ makes Dan scoot much closer to Arin and pull the blanket up higher on his body for protection. He eats the popcorn in self preservation, since he stress eats if there’s food in front of him. Eventually, Arin takes it away from him.

When Arin puts in  _ The Possession _ , Dan is already on edge from watching two horror movies. He’s proud of himself, though, since he made it through  _ two _ horror movies when he usually only makes it through one and a half. Partway through the movie, Dan is literally sitting on Arin’s lap, clinging to him, and when the haunted box in the movie is revealed to be a Dybbuk box, Dan clings to Arin and wraps a leg around Arin’s waist. “A Dybbuk?” he practically screeches. “Oh,  _ hell _ naw.”

Arin wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, praying that Dan doesn’t move  _ any _ closer or he’s going to nudge Arin’s cock with his shin, and he’ll realize that Arin’s at a three, though he’s slowly approaching a twelve. He can feel Dan’s crotch pressed against his hip.

“What’s a Dybbuk?” Arin asks.

“I’m sure they’ll explain it to you,” Dan says, voice wavering, clearly freaked out. “It’s a bad.” Dan buries his face against Arin’s shoulder, and he keeps it there for the rest of the movie. When the credits roll, the room goes mostly dark. “Is it safe to put my head up?” Dan asks, voice muffled by Arin’s arm.

“Yeah, the credits are rolling. I’m really proud of you, dude! You made it through the whole thing.” Arin smiles. He doesn’t really know why he subjects Dan to this, though they both know if Dan said no it wouldn’t be a problem. Part of it is that he finds Dan super cute when he’s freaked out, and the other part is that Dan clings to him every time they do this. He turns off the television, leaving the room illuminated by the stove hood light from the kitchen.

Dan sits up fully and rubs at his face. “I did not! I spent half of a movie with my face buried in your shoulder, dude.”

“Yeah, but we also didn’t have to turn off the television like we usually have to.”

Dan pouts out his bottom lip, and Arin has to tear his gaze away from it. Dan is half straddling him, with one leg across his thighs and part of his waist and the other curled up underneath himself. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Arin says childishly, sticking his tongue out.

Dan thinks about sliding the rest of the way onto Arin’s lap, but he knows that would be a bad idea. Instead, Dan leans in close, close enough that when he whispers his lips brush Arin’s jaw. “I’m actually rather tired. How about we just go to bed?” They always sleep in the same bed on Halloween because Dan always has nightmares.

“O-okay,” Arin says. His voice wavers and Dan can hear his nervous swallow. He pulls back and looks Arin in the eye. The tension in the room is thick, and Dan worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He pushes the blanket off of them and stands up, keeping eye contact with Arin. His hand finds Arin and he leads them both down the hallway to Dan’s bedroom, since he has the larger bed. Dan climbs underneath the covers and waits for Arin, who is staring at Dan like he wants to jump him and also run as far away as possible.

After a minute, Arin climbs into the bed. Dan waits for him to get settled before tangles his legs with Arin’s and moves as close to him as he physically can. He nuzzles Arin’s collarbone with his nose, and he feels the goosebumps erupt across Arin’s skin. He can feel Arin’s erection pressed against his thigh, but he doesn’t draw attention to it.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, lips brushing against Arin’s clavicle.

“Y-yeah,” Arin agrees, breathless. “Goodnight.”

 

#  Thursday, NOVEMBER 14, 2013

 

The past two weeks have been… intense. The basic sexual tension that’s permeated Arin and Dan’s home since week one has increased exponentially. You can practically taste it, like a particularly cloying perfume. Their eyes never stray from each other for very long, sizing the other up. Both know it’s inevitable at this point—it just boils down to who steps off the edge of that cliff first.

Dan grabs another beer from the cooler underneath the food table. Suzy and Barry are having another barbeque since this is one of the only days that everyone is available all at the same time to celebrate Thanksgiving. Barry had grilled turkey breast, along with some veggie burgers for Holly. There’s a cooler of beer since the only people that don’t drink are Suzy, Arin, and Dan. Well, Suzy and Arin, as of right now.

He’s leaning against the garden wall, watching Arin as he tosses a squealing Violet into the air. His arm muscles bulge pleasantly every time he catches the little girl. “I’ve never seen a more accurate definition of eye-fucking,” Suzy says, leaning against the wall next to him. He chokes a bit on the sip of beer he’s just taken. “The hormones flying between you guys are practically visible to the eye. Fuckin’... jump his bones already, Avidan.”

“Oh my God, Suzy,” Dan says, embarrassed. She gives him A Look™ and he nonchalantly takes a drink of his beer. Suzy pats his shoulder and sighs before heading across the yard to take her daughter from Arin so that she can eat dinner, since her bedtime is soon. Arin gives Violet a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek and she squeals and cackles, and the look of pure joy on Arin’s face makes Dan feel like he’s going to pass out.

Halfway through his second bottle of beer, he’s starting to feel it. He’s full of food from their late lunch, so he’s much less tipsy than he would be having had a bottle and a half of beer. He’s fuzzy on the edges, and he finds himself repeatedly touching his face, loving the tingles that happen when he does so. He’s definitely a tad buzzed, but it’s nothing serious.

However, as he finishes his second bottle of Yeungling, Arin appears seemingly out of nowhere. Dan gives him a wide smile. “Hi.”

“Are you drunk?” Arin’s eyes are wide.

“Nah, man,” Dan assures him. “Just a bit buzzed, like a fly.” He giggles quietly. “Okay, maybe I’m a bit more than buzzed, but I’m not drunk.”

Arin leans against the wall next to him and brushes his hair back out of his face. The action sends tingles racing across Dan’s scalp and down his spine. His eyes flutter shut and he exhales shakily.

“You okay?” Arin asks, sounding worried. However, when Dan’s eyes open, his heart lodges itself in his throat. Dan’s eyes are dark with arousal, and his pupils are blown wide. Dan takes a step forward. Arin’s still got his fingers in Dan’s hair. “D-Dan?”

“If you don’t want this, tell me no and I’ll go,” Dan murmurs, staring at Arin’s lips.

“I can’t tell you that because it would be a fuckin’ lie,” Arin replies, and the next thing he knows, Dan is kissing him. He feels like he’s been kicked in the chest, as all of the air in his lungs has seemingly disappeared. His entire body is warm and his insides are doing every gymnastics routine since the beginning of the Olympics all at once. He can taste the Yeungling on Dan’s lips, but he doesn’t care, because he’s  _ finally _ kissing Dan. He presses incrementally closer, and the gasp that Dan lets out is the sweetest thing Arin’s ever heard.

It’s all put on halt, however, when he hears Ross shout, “Dammit, Suzy, you fuckin’ won!” They part, startled, and turn to their friends, who are all handing Suzy twenty bucks each, including Barry. “Suzy!” Arin cries, affronted. “You guys made  _ bets _ ?”

“Suzy was the only one that thought Dan would make the first move,” Ross says petulantly. Dan snorts loudly and begins to giggle.

“Shut up,” Arin mutters and elbows Dan lightly, though it’s good natured. He’s smiling wide enough that it’s probably starting to look at bit creepy, but he can’t  _ stop _ . He squeals quietly when Dan kisses his cheek. The older man releases him to put his beer bottle in the box of empties, and he grabs a bottle of water from the cooler, much to Arin’s relief.

Dan sits down on one of the chaise lounges and pulls Arin down to sit between his legs, and Dan wraps his arms around Arin’s waist and rests his head against Arin’s shoulder. Everyone is mingling and talking about what their plans are for Thanksgiving and who they plan to go visit, but Dan and Arin are off in their little world. “Is it stupid that I feel like I’ve just had a huge weight lifted off of me?” Dan asks quietly.

Arin chuckles, and Dan can hear it reverberate through Arin’s chest. He covers Dan’s hand with one of his and squeezes. “No, because I feel the exact same,” he admits.

“Yeah?” Even though he can’t see Dan’s face, he knows he’s smiling. Dan kisses Arin’s shoulder. He hums quietly, lips still pressed to Arin’s shoulder blade, and the vibration tickles slightly. Arin squeaks softly. “Do you wanna head home?”

It’s a question with a  _ lot _ of implications, and none that Arin can outright question right now. His stomach seizes with nerves, but they’re the weird kind of nerves, like the ones you get before going on a giant roller coaster that you  _ know _ is amazing. “Yeah.”

When they stand up and say their goodbyes, they get a myriad of teasing, being told to use protection and whatnot, and Dan just flips them all off and tells them that they’re not his dad and he can do what he wants. The ride home is short, and Dan holds Arin’s hand the entire time. A new, thicker tension settles over them when they pull into the driveway. They exit the car without a word, and it’s not until the front door has closed behind them that Dan’s resolve breaks and he pushes Arin up against the door and kisses him,  _ finally kisses him _ the way he’s wanted to for so long.

Arin gasps and his keys clatter to the floor loudly as he trades holding his keys for sinking his fingers into Danny’s curls. Dan leads the kiss, slowly moving his lips against Arin’s, with just enough force to hint at more. When he tilts his head to take the kiss deeper, Dan cups the side of Arin’s neck and rubs his thumb over Arin’s jawline.

The younger man’s knees damn near buckle when Dan nibbles on his bottom lip before dragging his tongue along it.  _ Jesus Christ, he’s an incredible kisser.  _ When they part for air, Arin is left staring wide-eyed at Dan, who’s got a sexy, cheeky grin on his face. His lips are shiny and slick. They both kick off their shoes, and Dan takes him by the hand and leads him to his bedroom. Arin is hit with a sense of deja vu, seeing as Dan had done the same on Halloween night.

Dan sits down on the bed and scoots to the middle of it. “C’mere, baby girl,” he says quietly, and Arin doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit down on his knees in front of Dan. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he assures Arin. Arin worries his bottom lip between his teeth and he searches Dan’s gaze. He looks slightly anxious, but it’s not the usual flavor of anxiety Arin generally sees in his warm brown eyes.

“D-do  _ you  _ want to?” Arin asks, slightly worried to hear the answer.  _ What if he says no?  _

Dan chuckles. “Oh, God, do I want to,” he says with a sweet smile. It fades, however, upon his next words. “I just… I haven’t been with  _ anybody _ since…” He looks down at his hands, which are fiddling with the fraying denim of his jeans. Arin covers both of his hands with his own and lifts them so that he can kiss the knuckles. Dan’s cheeks flush pink at the romantic gesture.

“We can stop at  _ any _ time, Danny,” Arin assures him. “I  _ promise _ you that if you ask me to stop or if you seem uncomfortable, I won’t continue.” He tilts Dan’s chin up until Dan makes eye contact with him. “Do you trust me?”

Dan doesn’t even hesitate. “I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Arin murmurs, and he kisses Dan softly. Dan hums into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut, but before he can fully give himself over to the joy of kissing, he pushes slightly on Arin’s chest.

“Wait.” Arin backs off immediately, scooting back several inches and placing his hands in his lap. The speed at which Arin stops touching him and gives him space warms his heart, and he can’t help but lean forward and kiss Arin softly. “Nothing’s wrong,” Dan promises him, “but thank you.” Arin relaxes and moves closer again.

“What is it?”

Dan looks nervous. “I… I just want to make sure that we’re on the same page, here,” he begins. “I can’t go into this, otherwise.” Dan takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He reminds himself that the worst possible thing is rejection. Arin won’t leave him, won’t hate him. They’ll move on and still be friends. Everything will be fine.

“Danny?” Arin asks, beginning to feel worried.

“I’m in love with you, Arin,” Dan finally says. “I… I don’t know how long it’s been, but I realized it on the Fourth of July, and I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to tell you and—” His apology is cut off by Arin kissing him hard.

“You dummy,” Arin says affectionately. “I’ve been in love with you for years.” Dan’s eyes widen.  _ Years?  _

“You have?”

Arin starts laughing at the absurdity of the situation, startling Dan. “We are the most oblivious fucking idiots on the planet, aren’t we?” Danny snorts through his own giggles and he wraps his arms tightly around Arin.  _ Everyone _ around them could see it  _ except _ for them. Hell, even Dan’s  _ dad  _ had picked up on their attraction for each other.

In the midst of their laughing fit, they tip over onto the bed, and after a moment, the giggles die down. Arin’s straddling Dan’s waist, careful to not put all of his bodyweight on the smaller man. Danny bites his bottom lip and smiles shyly up at Arin. “Hi,” he says quietly.

Arin rolls his eyes and kisses him. Dan tangles his fingers in Arin’s hair and parts his lips slightly, inviting Arin to lead the kiss deeper. At the first brush of tongue, Dan moans quietly in the back of his throat, and Arin is almost positive he’s died and gone to heaven. He’s  _ dreamed _ of hearing that noise come from Dan, but no dream could compare to the beautiful way it sounds in reality. 

Dan gasps for air, and his heavy breaths morph into a moan when Arin kisses over his jaw. Dan’s stubble rasps against Arin’s tongue. While he kisses Dan’s neck, nibbling lightly with his teeth before laving the marks with his tongue, Arin slips his hand underneath Dan’s shirt and rubs his thumb along his hipbone. He gets second, much louder moan in response. Arin chuckles. “Sensitive?”

“A bit,” Dan answers, breathless. Arin tugs at the hem of Dan’s shirt in question, wanting to know if it’s alright to take it off. Dan nods and Arin sits back so that he can pull the garment over Dan’s head. The shirt is tossed to the floor, forgotten almost immediately. He looks down at Dan, taking in how fucking gorgeous he is, now that he’s  _ allowed _ to look.

Self-consciousness floods Dan’s stomach. Arin’s been staring too long. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, ashamed. “I—I know I’m way too skinny and—” His words are cut off by a fierce kiss that takes his breath away.

“You’re fucking  _ beautiful _ , Leigh.” The use of his first name makes him shiver. “You have no idea how hard it’s been for me to keep my eyes to myself for three years.”

“I’m really not, but thank you,” Dan mumbles shyly. The kiss he receives is soft and loving, and goosebumps rise across his arms. Arin trails gentle kisses down his neck and over his collarbones, all the while murmuring how beautiful and breathtaking Dan is. He’s sure his face is bright red by now.

Arin experimentally flits his tongue over one of Dan’s dusky pink nipples, and Dan reacts exactly as he’d hoped.

“Oh!” Dan gasps, arching his back slightly. Arin repeats the action and a sinful whine escapes Dan. “Holy shit.” He chuckles. “You learn something new every day.” Arin grins up at him.

“Oh, really?” He knows that look far too well…

“Arin, I— _ oh, fuck _ .” Arin swirls his tongue around Dan’s areola before taking his nipple into his mouth and suckling lightly as he teases the tip with his tongue. Dan’s hips buck up against Arin’s stomach and he moans lowly. “Oh, fuck.”

“Real big vocabulary you got there,” Arin teases upon releasing Dan’s nipple so he can move to the other one. 

“Shut uuu _ uuup _ !” He has no idea how he made it to thirty four without knowing his nipples were that sensitive. Arin lightly traces the divots of his hipbones, and Dan shivers. His hips are crazy sensitive, and Arin seems to have realized this, as he keeps teasing them with feather-light touches until he’s hard against his thigh. “Arin, please.”

Arin kisses Dan’s sternum, though he wrinkles his nose when Dan’s sparse chest hair tickles his face. He continues mapping out Dan’s body with his hands, trailing his palm over Dan’s belt until he can cup his hard cock through his jeans. Almost  _ immediately _ , Dan stiffens and his breathing hitches. When Arin makes to pull away, however, Dan grabs hold of his wrist, pinning his hand there. Arin frowns.

“Dan,” he warns, “don’t do this to yourself.” He can practically  _ feel _ the panic welling up inside of the older man.

“No, I need to get over this,” Dan grits out through clenched teeth. “Just—just talk to me. Kiss my neck. Whisper. Something.” Every breath trembles and his fingers shake where they’re holding onto Arin’s wrist. “Help me change the association.”

Arin really doesn’t think that this is the smart way to go about this, but it’s what Dan wants. He keeps his hand on Dan’s crotch, and he can feel that he’s gone flaccid from the panic. He doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t knead at Dan’s dick; he just keeps his hand there. The kiss he shares with Dan is slow and heated. “It’s okay,” Arin whispers against Dan’s mouth. “It’s me, and you’re safe, baby.” Dan nods and rocks his hips up slightly into Arin’s hand. He kisses Dan’s pulse point, and the rapid flutter of his pulse tickles his lips. He sucks on the sensitive skin, pulling a moan from Dan as he does so and when he moves on, he’s left a hickey behind. “You’re doing so well, Leigh.”

The praise makes Dan’s cock twitch, and Arin can feel it through the denim. He very carefully squeezes Dan, and he sighs in relief when Dan moans. “M’okay,” Dan murmurs.

“You sure?” Arin asks between gentle kisses to Dan’s prominent collarbones. Dan covers his hand and cups Arin’s hand more firmly around his dick. Okay. He’s sure. “Can I unbutton your jeans?”

“If you take off  _ your _ shirt first,” Dan counters with a giggle. Arin rolls his eyes but he complies, yanking his t-shirt over his head. Dan reaches up hesitantly, silently asking permission to touch. Arin nods, and Dan puts both of his hands on Arin’s plush tummy. He’s all soft curves and rounded edges. His hands trail up over Arin’s ribs to his chest, and he lightly squeezes Arin’s pecs. It slightly startles him when Arin gasps, and when Dan looks up, Arin has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth and his eyes closed. “You like that?” Arin nods.

Dan pushes lightly on Arin’s shoulders to get him to scoot back enough for him to sit up, and when he does, he kisses Arin quickly before moving to his neck. He can taste the salt from Arin’s sweat against his tongue, and when he sucks a love bite against Arin’s collarbone, the moan he’s rewarded with makes his own toes curl. Arin’s chest is a nice handful, and his nipples are a light, puffy pink. Dan gently kneads one breast, pulling more breathy moans from Arin before he teases at Arin’s nipple with his tongue. Arin shudders and gasps. “Sensitive?” Dan asks, parroting Arin’s earlier words back at him with a cheeky grin.

“Fuck yes,” Arin says. “Twist the other one a bit.”

Dan’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told, and when he takes Arin’s nipple into his mouth and sucks, he twists the other one between his index and middle fingers. Arin’s moan is loud, and Dan groans. “You’re fucking incredible,” Dan mumbles. He continues kneading Arin’s chest with one hand, randomly plucking at his nipple every so often while they kiss. Eventually, Arin bats Dan’s hand away so he can push him back down, and Dan giggles when he lands on his back on the bed with a quiet  _ fwump _ . “So pushy.”

“Damn right,” Arin agrees. He undoes Dan’s belt and his jeans, and Dan lifts his hips off of the bed to make it easier for Arin to tug them down. He takes Dan’s socks with them, and they puddle on the floor at the foot of the bed. Dan crosses his knees, shy. He’s hard enough that the tip of his cock is peeking out of the waistband of his boxer briefs, which are tight enough that they leave nothing to the imagination. Arin shimmies off his own pants, and Dan laughs when he sees that the younger man isn’t wearing any underwear. “What?” he asks, indignant.

“Just… of  _ course  _ you’re not wearing underwear.”

“They’re uncomfortable!” Arin lightly pinches Dan’s thigh. “And anyway, it’s one less clothing item to remove.”

Danny giggles. “You got me there.”

The easy banter helps relieve some of the heavy tension that the room is filled with, reminding Dan that sex doesn’t have to be serious and scary. It’s okay to laugh and make jokes. In a burst of courage, Dan hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his underwear and tugs them down his legs. 

“Wow,” Arin says, and Dan snorts. He playfully smacks Arin’s chest.

“Stop,” he mumbles, embarrassed. He doesn’t have anything to be  _ shy _ about, but it’s definitely not worthy of ‘wow’.

“You shut your fuck,” Arin says, scooting down the bed so that he can rest on his stomach. Dan props himself up on his elbows, and his cock twitches at the sight of Arin in classic blowjob position. “Your cock is fucking perfect.”

He’s almost eight inches when fully erect, and he’s of average thickness. There’s a slight upward curve to it, and, much like the rest of him, his cock is relatively veiny. The head is flushed dark in arousal, and it’s shiny with pre. The base is surrounded by neatly trimmed, reddish curls.

“Stop fuckin’ staring at it, you big foof,” Dan tells Arin, sounding slightly hysterical.

Arin looks at him with a serious expression. “Aren’t you supposed to admire a masterpiece?” Dan whacks him upside the back of the head. “Ow!”

“Shut the fuck up and suck my dick already, you idjit.”

“Bossy,” Arin mumbles, but he squeezes the base of Dan’s cock lightly and strokes it a few times. Dan gasps and, when Arin runs the flat of his tongue along the thick vein on the underside, he tilts his head back toward the ceiling and closes his eyes. He’ll blow his load before this even gets started if he  _ watches _ Arin.

His arms shake and he rests on his back again with a loud moan when Arin actually  _ sucks _ on his circumcision scar. Arin hums quietly, sending vibrations up Dan’s shaft as he takes the head into his mouth. As Arin takes him farther in, Dan is struck by the memory of Arin telling him he can deepthroat, and his stomach clenches in arousal. With every bob of his head, he takes Dan in deeper until he hits the tightness of his throat. Dan cries out and tangles his fingers in his curls and tugs. The wet, lewd noises from Arin’s throat make Dan’s toes curl. “Oh, fuck,  _ Arin _ ,” Dan whines, bucking his hips. Arin makes a choked sound, and pins Dan’s hips to the bed. “S-sorry, sorry.”

Arin fucks his throat with Dan’s cock until he’s about to cum, and then he pulls back with a gasp, wiping the spit off of his chin and lips with the back of his hand. His forehead is sweaty and his face is red and he looks fucking gorgeous. Dan whines at the sudden lack of stimulation. When Arin speaks, his voice is raspy. It’s a good thing they don’t have to record tomorrow because he’s gonna be hoarse for at least two days. “Where’s the lube and condoms?”

“T-top drawer,” Dan says. “But wait, I wanna suck you off.”

Arin kisses him, and for a moment, Dan loses his train of thought. “Next time, baby.” His stomach does flips at the promise of  _ next time _ . Arin grabs the lube from the nightstand, but when he reads the bottle, he frowns. “Do you have anything thicker?” Danny props himself up on his elbows and glances at the bottle of Astroglide in Arin’s hands.

“What’s wrong with that one?”

Arin quirks an eyebrow. “Have you  _ ever _ had anything up your ass, Dan?”

Dan blushes, which is honestly stupid considering the fact that he’s literally about to have sex. “Just my fingers…”

“Which is fine with water-based lube, but I hate to break it to you—my fingers are thicker than yours and my dick is  _ definitely _ thicker than your fingers, and we need silicone lube.” Dan glances down at Arin’s cock; it’s hard enough that it’s pointing straight up and resting against his belly, though it’s curving down a fair bit. It’s a little bit shorter than Dan’s, and a smidgen thicker, though the head of his cock is very pronounced and thick, surrounded at the base by russet curls. There’s a tiny mole near the head that makes Dan smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Dan unabashedly stares at Arin’s ass as he leaves the room, and he can hear him clanging around in his own bedroom for a moment before there’s a loud “Aha!” Dan is giggling when Arin re-enters the room with a fancy looking bottle that’s half empty. Dan raises both eyebrows and looks at Arin. “Someone has a lot of fun.” Arin shrugs.

“I like weird butt stuff, what can I say?” That makes Dan start giggling again, and Arin laughs as he kisses the older man. Danny’s laughter tastes like sunshine and it makes Arin feel like he’s swallowed a horde of butterflies. They fall back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, and when they break apart for some desperately needed air, Dan nuzzles their noses together. He nibbles his bottom lip, smiling. “What is it?” Arin asks.

“I love you,” Dan says quietly. Arin feels like he’s been lit up like the streets of Tokyo.

“I love you, too, Leigh.” Dan’s cheeks flush. “Do you like it when I call you that? Sorry I never actually asked you if that was okay.”

“I like it,” he assures Arin. “It feels… special. No one else calls me Leigh, not even my mom.” He releases his hold on Arin when the other man reaches for the lube. He slides a pillow underneath Dan’s hips to keep them elevated. He grabs the condom package and prepares to open it, but Dan grabs his wrist.

“Hmm?”

“Um,” Dan begins, looking down shyly, “if… if you don’t want to use that, you don’t have to. I’m clean and I’ve… I’ve never actually  _ been _ with a man. Y-you don’t have to, though, if you want to use the condom.” He’s never once had unprotected sex throughout the eleven years that he’s been sexually active, partially because he’s always terrified he’s going to accidentally get the girl pregnant, and also because it’s a big step that he’s never been ready to take.

Arin’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?” He knows he’s clean—he hasn’t been with anyone since before Dan moved to California, and after his last partner, he’d gotten the gamut of STD checks. Dan nods. “If you change your mind, baby, let me know.” Another nod. He tosses the condom back onto the nightstand and settles back onto his knees between Dan’s spread legs. The sight in front of him is a beautiful one, one that he never thought he’d get to actually see.

Dan has his hands resting next to his head, and his hair is splayed out on the light blue pillow. A lovely pink blush caresses his cheekbones and chest, and his cock is hard against his hip, where it’s leaving a small puddle of precum. When he shifts, a drop of it rolls down the side of his hip. Dan plants his feet on the bed, bending his knees before he pulls them to his chest. His blush deepens—he feels so exposed like this. Nobody has ever seen him in such a vulnerable position. Arin kisses Danny’s knobbly knee and strokes the backs of his thighs. Dan’s toes curl in response.

“You look  _ so _ fucking good like this,” Arin tells him. “So beautiful and open for me.” Dan actually moans, the praise making his entire body flush hotly. Arin chuckles quietly. “You like hearing about how good you’re being for me?” Dan’s breath hitches.  _ Bingo _ .

Arin pops the cap on the lube and pours the viscous liquid onto his fingers. He warms it up as best he can before he touches Dan’s hole with one slick finger. Dan squeals at the cool temperature. Arin rubs small circles against Dan’s entrance and he continues kissing over his knees and his lower thigh to help him relax before he begins applying pressure. “You’re being such a good boy, Danny.” Dan moans again, and the tip of Arin’s index finger finally breeches him. While Arin works his finger in slowly, Dan breathes deeply through his nose. It’s been a while since he’s done this to himself, and Arin’s fingers are indeed thicker than his own.

Dan squirms when Arin begins to slowly finger him. It still feels kind of clinical and odd, though the tingles of pleasure are definitely beginning to start in his pelvis. The drag of Arin’s knuckle against his hole is lovely, and the feeling of being so full is already bordering on overwhelming. After a few minutes, Dan whines. “Another one, please.”

“You sure? I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” Dan is  _ so _ fucking tight and he only has one finger inside of him.

“Please. I can take it.”

Arin giggles. “So polite.” He withdraws his fingers so that he can reapply the lube, and Dan whines. Two lube-slick fingers now rub against Dan’s rim, and he rocks his hips, seeking out friction. Arin  _ slowly _ presses them inside, and Dan hisses between his teeth. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” Dan answers, though his voice is strained. “I just need a moment.” He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, focusing on the butterfly kisses Arin is leaving over his legs. It takes almost a minute before he urges Arin to move again, and this time the burn is almost gone. “Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Dan moans. Just the two fingers are intense as fucking hell, and he can’t imagine what it’ll be like once Arin’s inside of him. His cock twitches hard against his hip, drawing forth another quiet moan. There’s precum running down the side of his thigh since he’s leaking so much in response to being penetrated.

Arin watches his fingers sink into Dan, and he has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from losing it right then and there. “How do you feel?”

Dan rolls his hips into Arin’s hand. “So full,” he murmurs.

Arin groans low in his chest. Good God, this man is going to be the fucking death of him. He begins to pump his fingers, and he curls his fingers every time he pulls back, and on the fifth thrust, Dan arches off the bed with a high-pitched cry.  _ Found it _ . With the added prostate stimulation, Dan’s moans grow in volume, and Arin works his damndest to commit them to memory. By the time he has three fingers pistoning in and out of Dan’s ass, Dan is a writhing, moaning mess. He let go of his knees a long time ago, and he has since tangled his fingers in his hair and he tugs every so often, moaning breathily at the sparks that dance across his scalp.

“Arin, Arin I’m ready.” Dan’s voice is already a bit shot and hoarse from all of the noise he’s been making. Arin withdraws his fingers and pours more lube into his hand so he can slick up his cock. He rests one of Dan’s legs over his shoulder, and hitches the other one around his waist. The head of his cock teases Dan’s entrance, and when he hesitates, Dan wraps his arms around Arin’s neck. “Make love to me, Arin.”

Their kiss is heated and passionate, and Arin swallows Dan’s whine when he pushes past the tight muscles. Dan’s mouth opens and he breathes harshly. Arin holds himself steady, not even halfway inside yet. Dan is like a fucking iron vice around him, and honestly, he could just cum from this. “Breathe, Danny.”

Air whooshes out of Dan’s mouth and he works to regulate his breathing and relax. Arin is  _ thick _ and even the three fingers hadn’t fully prepared him for it. It burns a fair amount as his body works to accommodate. After a minute that feels like an eternity, the burn subsides. “Okay, you can keep going.” Arin nods and slowly slides forward until his hips are flush with the back of Dan’s thighs. It feels like he’s on fire, like he’s burning from the inside out and if he touches anything that isn’t Dan, he’s going to set the room ablaze. Dan’s leg slips from his shoulder, and the older man wraps his legs around Arin’s waist and locks his ankles together.

“Arin,” Dan murmurs, pulling him close until they’re as close together as they can possibly be. He kisses Arin’s sweaty forehead and cheeks, and over his paper-thin eyelids, and finally he kisses his mouth and tangles their tongues together in a slow, sensual dance. “I love you. I love you so much, Arin.”

“I love you, too.” Arin nuzzles Dan’s throat and leaves kisses there. 

Everything is overwhelming—the intense pressure and heat inside of him, the absolute feeling of love and adoration emanating off of Arin as he kisses all over Dan’s neck and shoulder… He’s  _ never _ felt like this before, and he’s been in love more than once. Hell, he’d even considered _ marrying  _ one of those girls once upon a time, and he never felt like this. Until this moment, he’s never fully understood what people talk about when they say that they feel like they’re one with  _ everything _ when making love.

Arin starts slow, rolling his hips against Dan’s before he actually begins thrusting. With the way Dan has his legs wrapped around him, he can’t withdraw very far, but it doesn’t matter because it’s fucking  _ incredible _ . Dan has one hand buried in Arin’s hair and the other one is gripping his back. He’s making the most beautiful noises Arin has ever had the honor to hear, breathy, high moans interspersed with Arin’s name. 

“You're so beautiful, Leigh,” Arin says, lips pressed to Dan's prominent collarbone. He's trying to keep relatively quiet because he wants to listen to the way Dan sings his pleasure, but it's hard to contain his deep groans and grunts when he feels so  _ alive _ . 

“Don-don't keep quiet,” Dan tells him. He kisses Arin's temple, not minding the salt of sweat on his lips as a result. “Wanna hear you.” Arin groans deep in his chest, and Dan moans, high and breathy in response. Everything feels so good—he can only focus on the sensations he's experiencing and the love that's filling him up like a glass of water. 

Arin shifts his knees up a bit, shifting their position slightly, but that's all it takes for him to graze Dan's prostate. Dan arches up against Arin's chest and drags his nails across Arin's back. Arin hisses at the sting, but the pain intermingles with his arousal. “Arin!” Dan cries. “Oh, God, do that again.”

The taste of Dan's moans is heavenly on his tongue as Dan comes undone beneath him. His back is a latticework of strawberry lashes, bright red and warm to the touch as Dan claws at him in an attempt to ground himself. The white hot pleasure that's been coiling in his belly finally snaps, and Dan positively sobs as he reaches orgasm. All of the muscles in his body spasm and his vision goes white for several long moments. It is, without a doubt, the best orgasm he's ever fucking had. 

Arin barely manages to give two more thrusts as Dan tightens almost painfully around him before he's spilling his load inside of him with a broken moan of Dan's first name. Danny moans weakly at the flood of warmth he feels as Arin cums inside of him—its foreign and strange but he finds he likes it, likes knowing that he's sharing this with Arin with no barriers between them. 

Dan doesn't even realize he's crying until Arin pulls out of him and cradles his face. “Danny? Baby? What's wrong?”

Dan shakes his head, not knowing what to say as a flood of feelings positively rolls through him. He buries his face in Arin's neck with a choked sob. Frazzled at his lover’s tears, Arin rolls them onto their sides so that he's not crushing Dan with his body weight. He rubs Dan's back and makes quiet  _ shush _ noises. When the crying peters out a bit, Arin pulls away from Dan enough that he can see his face. Even with puffy eyes and tear-flushed skin, Dan is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“What's wrong?” Arin asks again, pushing Dan's curls away from his forehead.  _ Please don't let him regret this... _

He sniffles loudly and laughs. “N-nothing.” And he means it. Arin furrows his brow, confused. “More like what's right, actually.”

“I don't understand.”

“It just... it kind of hit me all at once how fucking much I love you,” Dan tells him, smoothing his ridiculously large thumb over Arin's cheek. “I knew I loved you before I met you, if that makes any sense.”

The telltale prickle at the back of his nose signifies that he's about to start crying, too. Arin laughs quietly. “Please don't tell me you're about to quote  _ Savage Garden  _ at me.”

Dan weakly smacks his arm. “I'm serious, Ar. I knew that you’d be important in my life from the moment that we first started talking. It was so surreal. I… I’ve only ever felt that way once, and it was when Brian and I started talking.” A quiet sniffle escapes and he wipes his eyes again. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Arin, but I’m glad that I did whatever it is.”

The kiss that they share is sweet, but tinged with salt around the edges from both of their tears. Arin giggles and Dan’s entire body lights up like a firefly. “You’re such a sap,” Arin says quietly. “I love it. I love  _ you _ .” 

Sleepy kisses and whispered promises turn into the nuzzling of noses, and eventually into silence. 

 

#  Monday, DECEMBER 16, 2013

 

Arin stares wide-eyed at the gorgeous bathroom of their suite. He wants to take this bathtub home with him. Holy shit. The shower is walk in, too. “Duuuuuuuuuuude,” Arin says in awe. “I’m never fucking leaving.” His voice echoes in the room, bouncing off of the granite. In the bedroom, he hears Dan snort.

“I’m sorry to say we only have the room for three days, baby girl,” Dan calls. He’s hanging up their clothes and putting them in the drawers so that they don’t get crazy wrinkled in their suitcases. They don’t have any valuables with them, so it’s not really an issue. If someone wants to steal his ratty jeans, then by all means. They’ve both packed nice clothes for dinner, however, and Dan has a little velvet bag that holds his rings, but other than that, it’s the standard fare—clothes, toothbrush, medication, lube… All the essentials, practically.

Both he and Arin had originally planned on seeing family for the holidays, but his parents had ended up going to Israel to see Avi’s family for the holidays since they could both get time off to do so, and Arin’s parents had been given a vacation by Arin’s older brother, Nate. They had a bit of extra spending money, and Dan had suggested they go to Vegas for a weekend for the holiday. He’d surprised Arin by booking the Junior Suite at the Mandarin Oriental for them.

Once all of their things are put away, Dan enters the bathroom to find Arin still staring at it in awe. He doesn’t blame him—it’s fucking gorgeous. They’re  _ definitely _ going to make use of that bathtub later. He wraps his arms around Arin from behind and kisses his neck. “Hey,” he says quietly. Arin covers Dan’s hands with his own and smiles.

“Hey yourself.” He tilts his head a bit, giving Dan more room as he continues to lightly kiss his neck. “This is so pretty, Dan. Thank you.” Dan snorts and Arin giggles. The puff of air is ticklish.

“I don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” Dan tells him, “You’re paying for half of this trip.” Arin turns to face him and kisses him softly.

“Not for the trip, you squidget,” Arin says, exasperated. “Though this  _ is _ fucking lovely. Just… thank you for being you and for loving me and for wanting us to do something nice together.” Dan feels the blush rising up into his cheeks, and he presses his face against Arin’s neck.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” he mumbles, and Arin chuckles.

“What else is new?”

“Hey!” Dan says, slapping his boyfriend’s chest lightly. “I resent that. It’s true, but I still resent it.”

It’s a little past four in the afternoon, and both of them are getting hungry. It had been a long drive, and in order to not miss check-in time, they’d skipped grabbing lunch on the way down. Dan’s stomach growls loudly and he covers his belly with his hand, embarrassed. “Shut up, Mr. Tums,” he grumbles, and Arin starts laughing.

“I’m  _ never _ going to get over the fact that you call your belly Mr. Tums.”

“He’s the cousin to Mr. Tumnus,” Dan tells him, grinning stupidly, and Arin laughs even harder. It echoes loudly in the bathroom, and it doesn’t take much to set Dan’s own giggling fit off. When they both calm down, Dan suggests they wander the strip and find a place to eat.

Outside on the strip, the lights are practically blinding. It’s loud and full of people, and Dan feels his anxiety ratchet up a notch. Arin holds his hand tightly, though, and it helps considerably. He knows Arin won’t let him go for anything, and that he’s safe in the giant crowd of people milling along. It’s relatively chilly, and for once Arin’s actually wearing a jacket. He looks adorable in it, as it’s paired with a Sailor Jupiter t-shirt and one of Suzy’s headbands that he’d filched a while ago. Dan’s wearing his leather jacket, as per usual, along with a soft blue t-shirt that Arin had gotten for him a couple of weeks ago since he owns practically nothing but band shirts.

On the way to find food, they pass a shop that sells anime and manga and other assorted weeby things, and Arin drags him inside. Unsurprisingly, Arin hones in on the Sailor Moon stuff, and fifteen minutes later they walk out with a Sailor Moon scepter. Arin is much more excited about the collectible than any one person probably should be, but it’s adorable as hell and Dan can’t help but kiss him.

While they wander, they pass several wedding chapels. Arin is too busy scoping out a good place to eat to notice how much Dan is paying attention to them. Even though he’s a man who has always had issues with commitment, he’s always wanted to get married. He hasn’t thought seriously about it since his devastating breakup with Rachel. He looks over at Arin, who is chattering away happily about who knows what, and he smiles. Would he marry Arin?  _ Of course.  _ He doesn’t even hesitate. He’d love to be married to this man.

While Dan’s up in his head, Arin leads them to a little diner, and once they have their food in front of them, Arin catches on to how quiet Dan has been since they left the hotel. “You okay, baby?” Arin asks, pausing mid-bite of his burger. Dan is nibbling his plain donut, looking far too contemplative for a man with delicious food in front of him. He waits for Dan to answer, and it takes a few moments for the older man to say something. What he says, though, throws Arin for one hell of a loop.

“Do you want to get married?”

Arin actually drops his burger.

“What? Like…  _ now _ ?” He has got to be dreaming. Dan ‘Commitment-Makes-Me-Itchy’ Avidan just asked if he wanted to get married.  _ What _ ?

“Well, obviously we’d have to finish our food first and get some rings, but yeah,  _ now _ .”

“What?”

Dan frowns and sets his donut down on its little saucer and instead pokes at his pancakes. “Do… do you not want to? It’s fine if you don’t, I shouldn’t have made assumptions, and I just—”

“Dan, shut up for a second.” He looks up, startled. “Of course I want to marry you. I’m just… really fucking surprised, that’s all.” Warmth spreads throughout Dan’s chest and down to his fingertips, and he’s smiling so big that his face kind of hurts. He’s sure he looks like a goddamn loon.

“You… you do?”

“Of course I do you big dumbass.”

“How romantic,” Dan says flatly, and Arin snorts. He picks up his burger and takes a big bite. “So… do you wanna do this after we eat?” Arin nods. Dan shimmies happily in his seat. “I mean, we’re the least traditional people on the damn planet, but I kind of want the ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’ thing, you know? Keep at least  _ one _ thing traditional.”

Arin swallows his bite. “Well, you’ve got a blue shirt, I’ve got my stolen headband and a brand new Sailor Scepter, and then we have you for the something old.” Dan hits Arin squarely in the forehead with his donut. He deserved it and it was definitely worth it. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. My shirt can be the something old.”

When they finish their meal, they head back onto the strip in search of a jewelry store. It takes them less than five minutes to come across one, and they both agree that they want simple, silver bands. Once they have their rings, they wander around with huge grins on their faces, looking for the perfect chapel. The only stipulation is that they are  _ not _ being officiated by a goddamn Elvis impersonator.

They finally settle on a little place called Mon Bel Ami, and they go with the simplest package they have. They don’t need or want any wild bells and whistles. What’s important is each other and what they’re doing. By the time they’re standing up at the front of the chapel, Dan is already crying. It passes in a blur and a whirlwind of emotions and tears, and honestly, Dan can’t remember what he said for his vows at all. He’s positive it was some romantic, sappy bullshit (he’s king of romantic and sappy bullshit), since he knows it made Arin cry. After the ceremony and the signing of their marriage license, they get one of the coordinators to take their picture. Arin sticks his Sailor Moon scepter into his bouquet like the fucking weeaboo dingus he is, and once the picture is taken, Dan sends it out in a mass text to all of their close friends and family members.

 

They barely make it back outside before Dan’s phone starts vibrating like mad. Arin stares at the wildly vibrating phone with wide eyes. “I think they might wear out that vibrating doohickey that’s inside the phone. Holy shit.”

Dan snorts. “What did you expect? We just sent out a text saying we got married. I’d be offended if my phone wasn’t trying to escape in a fit of vibrating rage.” Married. Wow. He kisses Arin hard. “We’re  _ married _ .”

Arin giggles. “I know, Dan. I was there.”

Dan silences his phone until they get back to the hotel, since he doesn’t want to be  _ that _ guy walking down the street texting and running into people. While Arin runs a bath, Dan sits down on the bed and begins to reply to people. Suzy’s message is in all caps with several spelling errors and a lot of swearing. His mom’s is filled with congratulations and a thinly veiled threat that if they don’t have some kind of small ceremony next time he’s in Jersey she’s going to kick his ass. His sister responds with nothing but the word ‘finally’.

Dan plugs his phone in and undresses, folding his clothes and putting them into his suitcase. He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom and watches Arin with a smile on his face as he adds some of the complementary bubble bath to the water. The smell of citrus fills the room, light and fresh. Arin looks up at him and grins. “Hey, there.”

“Hey, yourself,” Dan replies, giggling quietly. Arin turns off the tap and Dan tugs the hair tie off of his wrist and pulls his hair back into a messy bun. It’s getting pretty long, and since he just washed it yesterday, he doesn’t want it to get wet. Arin climbs into the large tub with a happy sigh, and Dan follows, settling back against his husband’s chest.

_ Husband _ . Wow.

Dan lifts his left hand up out of the water and stares at his ring, which is shining in the dim light. Again, he’s smiling so widely it’s making his cheeks hurt. “You know, I never really imagined myself eloping, but honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says quietly. “It’s just so…  _ us _ .”

Arin kisses his shoulder and laces their fingers together before resting their joined hands on Dan’s stomach. The water is warm, just bordering on the edge of  _ too _ warm, exactly the way Dan likes it, and it kills the chill that had arisen when Dan lifted his arm from the water. “Why, because we’re impulsive bastards?”

“Got it in one,” Dan says with a giggle. Arin continues to kiss his shoulder, and his facial hair scrapes wonderfully against his flushed skin. They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms and relaxing in the hot water. After a while, however, Dan can feel Arin’s cock hardening against the small of his back. He’s really not surprised in the least. If anything, he’s surprised it took this long for Arin to pop a boner.

Arin slowly grinds his hips against Dan’s backside, and the water sloshes slightly at his movements. Dan’s quiet noise of approval spurs Arin on, and he slides his right hand lower down Dan’s abdomen until he’s able to take Dan’s cock in hand. Dan gasps and rests his head back against Arin’s shoulder. His hands are slightly calloused and the rough spots feel glorious against his sensitive skin. He reaches lower and rolls Dan’s balls in between his fingers, drawing forth a moan that echoes off of the walls. Danny whines, arching into Arin’s touch when he rubs at Dan’s hole with his fingertips. He slips the very tip of his finger into Dan and hisses when the older man clenches around the intrusion.

They hastily dry off, not wanting to soak the bedclothes, and once Arin pulls the plug to drain the tub, he picks Dan up, causing the other man to squeal and wrap his legs around Arin’s waist. “Arin!” he shouts in surprise, giggling. With every step, their hard cocks rub together, and Dan moans quietly. It’s not very far to the bed, and Arin lays Dan down with much more care than he was expecting before he settles himself between Dan’s legs.

Without wasting any time, Arin licks a stripe up the underside of Dan’s cock, causing the other man to moan sharply. He sucks hard on the head, teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue before he surges forward and takes Dan into the back of his throat. Danny cries out, arching off of the bed as his dick is enveloped in the tight heat of Arin’s mouth and throat. It  _ never _ gets old having Arin swallow him down like it’s fuckin’ nothing. He’s never been with someone who consistently deepthroated him  _ and _ loved to do so. After a moment Arin pulls back with a loud gasp. He clears his throat. “I want you on your knees for me.”

Dan hurries to comply, settling on his knees with his chest against the comforter. Surprisingly, they haven’t fucked in this position yet, having only made love face to face so far. A shiver races down his spine at how exposed he is like this, how Arin can see  _ everything _ . He buries his face in his arms, embarrassed, but the embarrassment only fuels his arousal further. He yelps when Arin pulls him closer by his hips and pushes his knees further apart, making his back arch more and putting his ass on display.

He tries not to squirm when Arin kisses over his cheeks, but he can’t help it when Arin spreads him wide, using his thumbs to tease at the rim of his hole. He’s not expecting the slap to his ass, and when his brain registers it, he moans shakily and his cock twitches against his belly. He’d told Arin one night, red-faced and embarrassed, that he really liked being spanked, and this is the first time that Arin’s done it.

“Stay still,” Arin demands. His voice is raspy and deep, and the sound of it makes Danny’s toes curl. He stops squirming, forcing himself to keep still. “Good boy.” The praise makes something warm and heady bloom in his chest, and he moans. “You like that?”

“T-tell me I’m a good boy,” Dan requests, voice trembling.

Arin chuckles lowly. “I will if you’re good for me."

“I will be,” Dan vows immediately. “I’ll be good for you, baby.”

Arin kisses his tailbone. “That’s what I like to hear.” He then licks a long line from the back of Dan’s balls up over his asshole, and Dan shouts. Arin’s never done that before, and  _ oh _ that feels weird. He does it again, though this time he continues licking at Dan’s hole. The older man’s legs tremble and he gasps.

“Arin, fuck.” It’s so alien but also  _ so _ good. He had no idea that he was that fucking sensitive there. Arousal crashes over him in waves as Arin eats him out, and the scratch of Arin’s beard against his taint and his balls makes his eyes roll back in his head slightly. He’s being incredibly loud, even with his face buried in his arms. He will  _ not _ be surprised if they get a noise complaint.

“God, look at you,” Arin coos, voice husky. “You love me fucking you with my tongue, don’t you?”

Dan nods frantically. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck my ass with your tongue, Ar.” His face blossoms red as he says it, but he’s beyond caring about how desperate he sounds. It feels so fucking good.

“Good boy,” Arin murmurs before returning to what he was doing previously, darting his tongue in and out of Dan’s slick hole, relishing in the loud moans he’s getting in response. He sucks at the rim, and for a second he thinks Dan is going to come off the bed with the way his hips buck roughly. Arin smacks his ass again. “Didn’t I tell you to stay still?”

“S-sorry,” Dan gasps. The stinging burn from being spanked throbs pleasantly. He whines pitifully when Arin lets go of him, but he can hear Arin grabbing the lube from the nightstand where Dan had stashed it earlier.

Arin slicks up his fingers and easily slides two into Dan, who groans. He always takes Arin's thick fingers so well. “Look at you,” Arin practically growls. “Your greedy little hole takes two fingers like it's nothing.” Dan whines loudly. The dirty talk is making him blush, but he loves it. Arin has the perfect voice for it. He rocks back against Arin's fingers, trying to take him in deeper. Arin crooks his fingers and rubs over Dan's prostate, and Dan spasms, crying out. 

“Arin, please,” he begs. “Please fuck me already.” 

Arin withdraws his fingers with a lewd, slick noise and kisses between Dan's shoulder blades. “You sound so pretty when you beg.” 

“Please, please, please,” Dan babbles. He's so hard and he's leaking so much precum that it's dripping onto the sheets. He wants it fast and rough. Arin has only fucked him into the mattress once, and the other times they'd had sex had been slow and sweet. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” Arin settles back on his knees and strokes himself with a slick hand and watches as he slides into Dan, who lets out a quavering moan. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” he says, the word hissing between his teeth like snakes. Arin fucks him hard and fast, and he tangles his fingers in his curls and tugs. The hair tie he'd had in earlier has slipped out already and it's somewhere in the sheets. 

Arin bats his hand away and fists his hand in Dan's hair. He tugs hard enough that he has to get up in his knees, and he grabs onto the headboard. His back is curved in a beautiful arch and the change in position causes Arin to nail his prostate dead on. Dan cries out, and his eyes roll back slightly. The tingling sparks of pain racing across his scalp and down his spine from Arin yanking his hair pool in his belly. The sound of skin on skin is loud and dirty. 

Everything feels so fucking good. This is some of the best sex he's ever fucking had, and definitely some of the roughest. He's gonna be sore as all hell tomorrow but it's so worth it. The buildup of his orgasm feels different than usual, and he realizes why when he sobs out Arin's name, eyes rolling back and body twitching as he experiences his first dry orgasm. 

Arin swears loudly as Dan's muscles flutter around him. He lets Dan's hair go, and the older man sags back down into the bed, panting loudly. Arin smacks his ass again, and Dan whines. “I'm so c-close.”

Arin nearly growls. “Cmon, Leigh. Be a good boy and cum for me.” That's all it takes before Dan cums with a wail across the duvet. Arin hilts himself balls deep and empties himself into Dan with a loud groan. When he withdraws, cum runs down the back of Dan's balls and down the inside of his thighs as his hole flutters around the sudden absence of having something inside of him. 

Dan lays down on his side, breathing hard. He rolls onto his back at Arin's request, and he's surprised to see that Arin has his phone out. He bats weakly at Arin's hands, giggling. “Arin, what are you doing?”

“Taking a picture of my beautiful husband,” he says. He captures a picture of Dan from the neck up as he giggles sleepily. “Don't worry. I don't have cloud sharing enabled.” He sits back on his heels so he can see all of Dan's body on the screen. Dan has  _ also  _ admitted that he was a bit of an exhibitionist. Dan spreads his legs further and pulls them up to his chest, and in a move that surprises them both, he spreads himself wide so that Arin can see the jizz that's leaking out of him. “Holy shit,” Arin mumbles. The picture he takes is sexier than anything he's ever seen in his goddamn life, and he turns off his phone and tosses it onto the bed. 

In a way that he hasn't managed since he was about fifteen, Arin's cock begins to stiffen again. He guides the head of his cock back into Dan and moans deep in his chest. Dan gasps and throws his head back. “Jesus, Ar,” he says. “You're a-already hard again?”

Dan wraps his legs around Arin's waist and tugs him close so he can drape his arms around Arin's neck. “I've got the most beautiful man in the fucking universe underneath me,” Arin says by way of explanation. 

“I love you,” Dan says through a breathy moan. “I love you so goddamn m-much I feel like I'm g-gonna drown in it.”

Arin is pulling out just past the head of his cock, catching his rim every time he does. Dan moans musically soft every time and rolls his hips at each thrust. 

He sucks a hickey over Dan's pulse point, loving the hummingbird’s pulse against his lips. Dan rolls his hips in fluid waves, meeting Arin's thrusts halfway. “Fucking—oh, oh,  _ oh _ , just like that Ar, yes!” He drags his nails down Arin's back as the head of Arin's cock grinds back and forth over his prostate. 

The shock of pain makes Arin bite down on Dan's shoulder. Dan comes apart almost instantly, moaning loud enough for his voice to break. He cums hard enough that everything goes black for a few seconds. When he comes to, he feels Arin's second load of cum running out of him. Arin isn't on the bed, and for a moment Dan panics. He's pretty out of it, running on an endorphin high. “Ar?” Dan calls out quietly, his voice cracking slightly. 

“I'm right here,” Arin says, coming out of the bathroom with two wet washcloths.

He folds one of them and puts it across Dan's forehead to help cool him down. “Mmm, thank you.”

Arin cleans the cum off of Danny, smiling at the other man as he giggles. He uses the clean half of the washcloth to clean the stains off of the duvet. He turns off all the lights, and the room dims slightly, still lit by the light from the strip below. He spoons against Dan's back, intertwining their fingers and holding their joined hands over Dan's chest. The  _ th-thump _ of Dan's heart can be felt underneath his palm. 

“I love you, Leigh. You're my moon and my stars and my reason to get up in the morning,” Arin says softly, face pressed into Dan's hair. It smells like sandalwood and cinnamon. 

“I love you, too.” His voice cracks slightly and he brings Arin's hand up to his lips so he can kiss Arin's knuckles. “I wish there were enough words to tell you how much I do.”

It's frustrating, honestly, that he can't come up with the right words to explain to Arin just how much he loves him. He vows to spend the rest of his life  _ showing  _ him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Alex O. (demonducky // uruhead.tumblr.com) for the art of the boys at their wedding!


	6. Epilogue - I Knew I Loved You (Before I Met You)

#  Epilogue — I Knew I Loved You (Before I Met You)

 

#  Sunday, APRIL 6, 2014

 

Dan and Arin are babysitting Violet for Barry and Suzy while they have their monthly date night. Arin is out getting stuff for dinner while Dan lays on his back on the sofa with a three year old curled up on his chest and two cats at his feet.

“Uncle Danny?” Violet asks.

“What is it, sweetpea?” Dan turns down the volume on the tv so that he can hear her. She's gotten very good with words over the past six months but she still speaks quietly.

“Why don't you and Arry have a baby?” Dan's eyes widen. “Aren't married people supposted to have babies?”  _ What the hell does he say to a kid that's almost four? _

“Because Arin and I are both daddies. You need to have a mommy and a daddy to make a baby.” Is he doing this right? He doesn't want to tell her anything Suzy or Barry doesn't want her to know. His mom was always very straightforward about sex, so he's never had an era in life where he thought babies came from the stork or a cabbage patch. 

“Oh,” she says simply. “Okay.” For once, Violet accepts the answer she's given and doesn't go on a ‘why’ tangent. 

Now that he's thinking about it, however… he wonders how Arin feels about adoption. 

 

#  Saturday, SEPTEMBER 13, 2014

 

Dan knows better than to get in between his sister and whatever she's planning, and he lets her take the reigns of their commitment ceremony. He and Arin have finally found time to visit New Jersey, and true to Deb’s word, they're having a small ceremony and reception for friends and family in Dana's back yard. The leaves are starting to turn orange and it's absolutely beautiful, a sprawling field of green and red and amber.

Arin looks so beautiful that Dan could cry, wearing a suit sans the jacket, dashing in his light pink dress shirt. His hair is pulled back into a bun, and the flyaways are pinned back with bobby pins that sparkle in the sunlight. Dan has his hair pulled back in a messy, low ponytail, flyaway curls unrestrained and left to flutter in the breeze. Dan’s dress shirt is sky blue, and the top four buttons are undone. His necklace shines brightly.

Together, they stand in front of the small group of people, facing each other with their hands clasped. They don't have an officiator because they're already married, but they want to exchange vows. Dan still doesn't remember what he said on their actual wedding day. 

“Leigh,” Arin begins, a beautiful smile on his face, “from the moment I saw you, I knew that you were going to be important to me. Whether I actually got to ever meet you or not, I just  _ knew  _ that you would be in my life in some way, whether it was through me being a fan of your music or being your friend. 

“Until the day you married me, the moment you replied to my message was my happiest memory, because that was the moment that brought you into my life.”

Dan wipes his eyes. He's thankfully a silent crier, but he has tears running down his cheeks at a steady pace. 

“I love you with every part of my being, and I thank you for being the love of my life, my soulmate, and my best friend all at the same time.” 

Arin just barely makes it through all of that before he starts crying, too, and with a watery chuckle he wipes his eyes and sniffles. “Dammit. Almost made it.” Everyone chuckles, and someone quietly blows their nose.

“Arin, all that you are is all that I'll ever need. You're the brightness in the dark and the oxygen to my flame.” His voice is already wavering. “It's always been hard for me to make a commitment, having been burned too many times in the past, but with you, it was never a question of whether or not I should commit to you.” Dan squeezes Arin's hands. “It was a question of how soon I  _ could _ because I knew without a damn doubt that you love me and make me happy, happier than any one person has a right to be.

“I'm not saying that it'll always be easy, because everyone has ups and downs and disagreements, but I look forward to us growing and changing together as people. I love you, and I'm happy as all hell to spend the rest of my life with you.” By the end, Dan is speaking through a barely-held-back wave of tears, and they finally begin to fall when Arin cradles his jaw, gently stroking the skin with his thumb, and kisses him. 

It's like being on top of the world. 

 

#  Wednesday, JULY 8, 2015

 

Dan brushes the blonde streak in Arin's hair back behind his ear. The younger man is laying on his stomach, looking down at the wordsearch they've been doing together. They've been laying in bed for most of the day, taking one of their scheduled days off. After the Starbomb burnout, they'd decided that they  _ needed  _ to have these scheduled times to just relax and decompress. 

Arin, with his pen between his teeth and his hair in two messy pigtail buns, looks over at his husband once he realizes he's being stared at. Dan has a sappy smile on his face.

“Wha’?” Arin asks, voice muffled by the pen between his teeth. He quirks one eyebrow in question. 

“Answering that email is the best thing I've ever done in life.” Arin's cheeks flush rosy pink, and he looks away, embarrassed. They've been married for almost three years and Dan saying shmoopy things like that  _ still  _ makes him blush. 

Arin tugs the pen from between his teeth and slides it into one of his hair buns. He's still blushing when he leans in and kisses Dan sweetly. Arin is the best thing to ever happen to him, and he's thankful to whatever greater power there is that he and Arin met.

Things aren't always easy—he still has days where he's trapped in his head, where Arin has to hold him and reassure him that everything is okay while he cries his heart out, and there are days where they snipe at each other and lose patience during disagreements, but they always make up and talk through it afterwards. Some days he's still triggered by television shows and loud yelling, and Arin is always there to assure him he's safe. Every up and down is made easier by the fact that they have each other. 

That's something that will never change, no matter what happens. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this and for showing me so much love on Fireflies. Without that, this never would have been written.


End file.
